The Horcrux of Severus Snape
by kaleidoscopies
Summary: Snape's Headmaster and Harry's the DADA professor/struggling father. Against all odds, Snape's newfound companionship with Harry's daughter brings them closer than ever before. Meanwhile, strange things are happening and a sinister figure threatens to destroy everything they've worked so hard to preserve. Oh, and Snape has a Horcrux. Just sayin'. Spoilers: HP 1-7. Snarry.
1. The Tables Have Turned

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! After some encouraging messages from my first extremely short Snarry fic, I've decided to start on a proper full length one. As such, would really appreciate any comments/reviews from you guys on how to improve this thing. This story is set a few of years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Why is Snape still alive? Well, I'll answer that question (in detail) in the next chapter. (:

**Disclaimer: **Before you start reading this fic, I think I should warn you that this isn't gonna be some quick one-shot meet, kiss, and get it on like rabbits kinda story. I'm taking my time developing the relationship between Sev and Harry. And I don't intend to take any quick short cuts with my explanation of why Severus is still alive. I respect Rowling and her work too much to want to treat her characters without the careful consideration and care they truly deserve. So, well, if you're looking for a quick pick me up, this is probably not gonna be it. But if you're feeling particularly patient enough to endure the grueling nature of Harry and Sev's relationship... then well, I promise you, you're in for an adventure.

**Update (14/6/12): **Hello lovelies, I've just changed the POV in the first 2 chapters to a 1st person POV, so that the format is consistent throughout. Have been wanting to for some time, but never really had the time. (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 1<strong>

_**The Tables Have Turned**_

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><p><em>This seemed all too familiar. Far too familiar. The wood scraping against his fingers, his heart beating violently from within his chest. His blood. Snape's blood. How did it come to this? And then, "Look at me."<em>

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><p>"Come," I call, drumming my fingers impatiently against my desk. I hear those familiar footsteps grow louder. I continue rustling through the large stacks of scrolls in front of me. From the corner of my eye, I notice that mop of black hair emerge from behind the cabinet.<p>

"Headmaster."

I continue sorting out my scrolls, deliberately ignoring my 'guest'.

"You asked to see me?"

I slowly place the scroll I am holding back on the desk, but don't look up at the visitor.

"So it would seem, Potter. You wouldn't be here otherwise," I drawl.

The brat rolls his eyes. I don't see it, but I am seasoned enough to detect rude behaviour even without looking these days. I let it pass.

"I have a class in 5 minutes, Severus," Potter stares at me from behind those awful pair of spectacles he refuses to get rid of.

"Headmaster," I snarl.

"No need to call me Headmaster, Severus," Potter grins.

I spring up from my chair like a marionette being pulled by a string. "You're an ingrate, Potter! After everything I've done for you, the least you could do is learn some manners!"

Potter attempts to suppress his grin and continues calmly, "Apologies, Headmaster. So why was I summoned?"

I grit my teeth. These days, Potter apologises far too easily. Far too quickly for my liking. A huge change from when Potter had first arrived at the school. Upon Minerva's request ("_Severus please, just give him a chance, he's not the same boy you used to know.")_, I had allowed Potter to stay on the Hogwarts grounds and appointed him as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Of course, I had regretted this decision almost immediately. Potter's first week at Hogwarts involved a ridiculous amount of verbal sparring between the both of us. Potter's fault of course. Not to mention the fact that I am dead certain that Potter set a charm on my Headmaster's chair in the Great Hall. I awoke one morning to find my chair painted in maroon and gold, bearing an obnoxiously large imprint of the Gryffindor lion on the back. Despite several attempts at trying to remove it with magic, nothing worked. I eventually deduced that the only way to remove the garish design was to do so with actual paint. As such, I obtained the 'gracious help' of two students on detention to restore it back to its original shade. Upon confronting Potter, the insolent brat denied having anything to do with it and insisted that I find proof of his misdoings. I didn't manage to find any however. Perhaps Potter had picked up a skill or two for covering his tracks during his time as an Auror.

However, after a few months in, the verbal bashings shared between the both of us developed into something more… comfortable, or so it seems. I suppose I've grown to realise that Potter has indeed changed, albeit slightly. Very slightly. He now possesses the rare ability to hold his own against my constant stream of insults which I so deeply enjoy bombarding him with. He doesn't seem to have to even rely on the childish temper tantrums he used to throw previously. Even if I am… slightly impressed, I refuse to let it show, lest my authority be undermined.

Oh, how times have changed.

"Rolanda leaves for Romania on Friday and will only return to Hogwarts in two months. She has requested your help in covering her first-year Quidditch lessons," I drawl.

"Wow, okay. But I'm knee deep in work, I've been helping Filius out with…" Potter begins, but I cut him off abruptly.

"It wasn't a question, Potter."

"Fine. Alright, okay. I suppose I could do with a bit of exercise after all, growing old, you know," Potter has the audacity to laugh.

"Your health does not concern me," I state clearly, sitting down once again.

Potter lets out a dramatic sigh. "Really Severus? I could have sworn Winky mumbled something about you telling her to bring me dinner last night."

"Get out, Potter."

That signature grin has once again returned.

"NOW."

Potter snickers and then leaves my office. I groan.

Times have changed indeed.


	2. Red Hair and Feathers

**Author's Note: **As promised, this chapter explains why Snape is still alive. It's a whole lot of Snape thinking/remembering. Chunky, chunky info. Oh, and thank you guys, truly, for all your support so far! (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 2<strong>

_**Red Hair and Feathers**_

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><p>I steal a glance at that insolent boy, no, <em>man<em>, as he leaves the room. Apart from the slight increase in height, Potter hasn't changed much. His hair is more or less the same mess it always was. One morning, I noticed a particularly large scar on his left arm during breakfast. I have attempted to ask him about it, but he has carefully avoided my inquiry. I am very observant when it comes to noticing scars. But other than that, Potter is the same. It was stranger to imagine that this child, man, alright, _man-child_, was a father of three.

The eldest, whose name I can't say without at least a hint of disgust, is due to start his first year at Hogwarts next year. His brother, who Potter had dared to name after me and meddling bloody Albus, was more or less polite. Albeit sneaky. But that's what you get when you name your son "Albus".

And then there's Lily.

Of the three, Lily is the only one who stays on Hogwarts grounds with Potter. The other two live with the Weasley girl in London, or so Minerva says. After several years of marriage, the Potters' had fallen out for some reason. Divorced, apparently on amicable terms. Potter visits the two boys regularly, often bringing Lily along with him. Lily is an extremely bright child, quite like her namesake. Polite, well-behaved and diligent.

Also, seemingly, my number one fan.

When Potter goes for class, he leaves her with one of the Professors. There is a duty roster which Minerva circulates, apparently. I have not seen it, mainly because it does not matter to me. The girl spends most of her time lounging on my sofa, reading. Or sitting on my desk while drawing. Yes, _on _my desk. I must admit of growing rather fond of her. Which is honestly saying something, considering how I dislike most children in general. And yet, I'm Headmaster. Albus must be laughing in his grave. Or in his portrait, as he very often does when Lily is around.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft tapping sound coming from the window. Perched on the window sill, Fawkes continues tapping at the window impatiently. I open the window to let the blasted bird in. I stroke his feathers gently and then allow him to perch himself back on his stand. He is particularly happy today, having feasted on a rare fish at his usual hunting spot.

It's strange how things work out, I suppose. I would be dead if it weren't for Fawkes. On the night Albus had instructed me to take his life, I stood amongst several Death Eaters, shaking in my boots as I held my wand towards Albus. They couldn't see me tremble and I don't blame them. After so many years, hiding my fear is a frequently practised habit. I remember hesitating slightly, Albus pleading, and then all of a sudden, I see a line of fire from outside the tower.

Fawkes.

I remember feeling a sudden surge of strength, courage if you will. So I cast the spell, I did it. I murdered Albus Dumbledore. But I felt no guilt, no fear. I was different. I felt as if a part of me had gone.

I discovered later that this assessment was indeed accurate. Albus bloody Dumbledore, from his ridiculously oversized portrait, explained that Fawkes was my Horcrux. Albus had cast the complex Horcrux spell on Fawkes shortly after he was certain he had convinced me to end his life. He had set it to activate immediately after his death.

In that senile mind of his, he figured that in order to spare me from the guilt of his murder (which he feared might have impeded my progress of seeing to the Dark Lord's demise), he would split a part of my soul and place it in Fawkes. The darkest part of my soul.

"I had planned for it to cleanse you, my boy. It's a very tricky little spell, but I managed it. And Fawkes, being the amazing creature of Light that he is, has absorbed the worst part of you, Severus. The very deepest, darkest part of you. You, of all people deserve it, Severus. Your soul is no longer tainted with the blood you spilled for our cause," Albus had explained while eyeing me closely from his portrait.

I was angry of course. Though I appreciated the effort, he could have at least tried telling me first. But no, Albus Dumbledore tells no one anything. And to use the darkest of magic to… cleanse? The irony is befitting only for Albus Dumbledore, I suppose. To this day, Albus insists the Horcrux he created is in no way "dark".

"It is a Horcrux, but it isn't a Horcrux exactly. Don't roll your eyes at me, my boy. If I was alive, I would give it a name. I have always wanted to name an invention of my own. Flibberwabbet. That's a good name isn't it, Severus? Doesn't sound dark at all!" Albus had said.

So Fawkes is the reason why I am still alive today. The Dark Lord had set Nagini upon me at the Shrieking Shack, minutes before Potter came sauntering in. I was careless, far too careless. Far too arrogant, thinking the Dark Lord suspected nothing of me. I was wrong.

After providing Potter with my memories, I lay there dying for some time.

Potter had thought me dead. In fact, I think I was dead for a few minutes. The steady pounding of my heart had ended for a bit. I recall seeing Lily's eyes. Lily's face, Lily's hands guiding me. Away.

The next thing I knew, I was gasping for air. The wounds on my neck split open again. The blood which had dried continued flowing freely. The pain I felt was immense, unbearable. I wished death upon myself.

And then I saw Fawkes, brilliant red, soaring towards me, dripping tears on my wounds. Crying for me, crying for us.

And then, I was alive.


	3. Little Ms Potter and Sevvie

**Author's Note: **_Sorry if the last chapter seemed slightly draggy. Am a stickler for details, so I like to have everything nicely set up before I open up more loopholes. (: Hope you find this one more entertaining. Heh. And if you haven't already guessed it, the title of this story is alludes slightly to "The Picture of Dorian Gray". Just thought you should know. *hums*_

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 3<strong>

_**Little Ms. Potter and Sevvie**_

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><p>I stroke Fawkes' feathers gently. He is the only creature that truly understands me, understands my pain. He cries sometimes, out of the blue, even when no healing is required. This never happened before Albus turned him into my Horcrux. He is no longer the majestic bird he once was. His feathers fall off more easily; they are now a pale maroonish colour instead of fiery red. Whenever I start feeling sorry for him, I feel him radiate with warmth under my fingertips. As if he's telling me – <em>It's okay, Severus, let me share your burden<em>.

I am shaken out of my thoughts when I hear tiny footsteps from behind me. As a former Death Eater and spy for the Order, I can tell when someone is trying to creep up on me. I know who it is this time so I keep silent and pretend I do not notice. The footsteps grow louder as the foolish intruder comes closer.

Suddenly, I feel surprisingly strong little hands grasp at my right leg through my robes.

"HAH! GOTCHA SEVE…" Lily Potter fumbles slightly, trying to get a tighter grip of my calves and then collapses into a tiny heap at my feet after tripping over my billowing robes.

I smirk.

"Oww," she mumbles, rubbing her injured posterior.

"Ms. Potter, ever the spy," I offer her my hand. She accepts it, pulls herself up and straightens her floral dress.

"Sev! Why don't you ever wear shorter robes!" Lily exclaims, staring up at me with those piercing green eyes of hers. Those eyes of hers serve as a poignant reminder of why I am unable to refuse her anything.

"Because then I wouldn't be able to trap unsuspecting intruders within its folds." I reply.

"Ha ha, Sev, very funny," Lily rolls her eyes, a habit she has recently developed, thanks to her awful father. "Hullo Fawkes! You're back!" she waves excitedly. The phoenix lets out an equally excited squeak, flies down from its stand and perches itself on her head. "Hee hee hee. Aww shucks, Fawkes! Gerroff!" Lily tries to shoo the attention-seeking bird off her head. He successfully avoids her hands by bouncing up and down.

"Sigh, your bird is annoying as you are, Sevvie," Lily grumbles and settles herself on the corner of my desk, her usual spot.

"Phoenix, Ms. Potter," I correct her, hiding my amusement as I settle back into my chair and pretend to look busy.

Fawkes is still perched on her head, attempting to nib at her ear. Lily sits, watching me as she always does. "So… watcha doing today, huh Sev? Can I help you?"

"And why would I require your assistance, Ms. Potter?"

"Because… you said I was smart. Remember yesterday when you let me help you brew?" Lily pondered out loud.

"Yes, I do remember that," I remark, biting my tongue in order to control myself from saying anything sarcastic about said incident. It had involved me attempting to brew yet another Sleeping Draught for that ungrateful brat of a man. In order to stop Lily from whining and knocking equipment over, I entrusted her with the task of alerting me whenever smoke emerged from the cauldron. She took her job very seriously and stood, poised, open mouthed in front of the cauldron, waiting for the sight of smoke. It was the first time she had been completely silent for at least 30 minutes.

When confronted with the sight of smoke, she began shouting animatedly, "SEV! SEV COME QUICK! SMOKE! SEV!"

"No need to raise your voice, Ms. Potter. I am standing right here," I said from right beside her, and calmly attended to the potion.

Lily was very proud of her achievement and attempted to share this bit of news with her father (repeatedly), when he came to get her from my office in the evening - "And then right, Sev said, _stop jumping, child, you are going to give me a heart attack._" Lily attempted her best imitation of me.

Potter had just grinned proudly at his daughter, and strangely so, even at me as well. Why he would feel proud of my actions, I have no clue. It was quite annoying actually, seeing as I am not a child who needs affirmation from anyone.

Now, Lily is reading a scroll on my desk, Fawkes still perched on her head, his head tilted to one side, almost as if he is reading the scroll along with her.

"De…ten..tion," Lily mouths. "Bob Ti-tus."

"Yes, detention for a week with Filch. The foolish boy exploded his cauldron in the dungeons."

Lily's mouth hangs open in shock. "Oh no… IN-SO-LENCE!" she suddenly shouts, slamming her little fists against the desk, startling the poor bird on her head.

"Indeed," I raise an eyebrow at her.

The girl learns fast. I smirk, wondering if she performs such actions in Potter's presence as well. I wonder if he realises where she's learning all this from.

"Ooh, anyway Sev, guess where I'm going tomorrow!"

"Oh, do tell," I drawl, feigning disinterest.

"I am going to…," she pauses, in attempt to create suspense. "Madam Puddifoot's! To have ice-cream with Daddy!"

"Oh joy."

"Yes indeed!" she remarks, all sarcasm lost on her. "Will you come, Sev?"

"Merlin forbid, no!" I reply immediately. An afternoon spent with that annoying brat and his annoying brat? Hah, I would gladly rather stick my head in a bucket of Flobberworm mucus.

Lily looks at me, dejected. "Oh."

My heart falls.

"I understand if you don't want to spend time with me… anymore." Lily looks down sadly at the desk, Fawkes staring accusingly at me.

Oh, Merlin's bloody beard…

"It's alright, Sev. I don't have that many friends after all, I only have Rose, and Hugo, but I don't really see them… I only have you here, so I figured…" Lily finally looks up at me for a few moments. Those piercing green eyes meet mine.

Well, shit.

"Fine." I mumble, defeated.

"What? Really? You're coming! YAY!" Lily shrieks and then lunges at me, practically strangling me with her hug, her cheeks pressing against mine.

Fawkes squeaks loudly, perching itself excitedly on top of my head.

Severus Snape, what have you gotten yourself into this time?


	4. Breakfast for the Eyes

**Author's Note: **The following 2 chapters are pretty short. Just a little prelude to their outing at Madam Puddifoot's.

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 4<strong>

**Breakfast for the Eyes**

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><p><em>He thinks I am asleep, so he runs his fingers through my hair, unknotting the greasy ends. He kisses my forehead, cheeks, nose. I feel like I could stay asleep forever with him clinging to me like this. Skin against skin. Dried up sweat. Huddled under this blanket. He pulls me closer, tighter. And then whispers, "Goodnight Severus." I want to tell him not to leave me, but I don't. He isn't even here...<em>

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><p>I wake up suddenly, and instinctively reach for my wand. I am alone in my room.<p>

Such a strange… dream. I chide myself for being so paranoid.

The window is open, Fawkes has left to go hunting again. As usual, I have my morning shower, put on my robes and head downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. It's the weekend so the older students are getting ready to head out to Hogsmeade. I take my seat at the Head Table.

"Morning Severus," Minerva remarks as she takes her seat next to me. I nod.

Slughorn sits down on my other side. The pudgy man dabs at his forehead with a handkerchief. It isn't even that hot today. "Headmaster," he greets. I nod again. Slughorn helps himself to some sausages which he proceeds to devour quickly. Minerva is lazily stirring her coffee.

The lack of conversation at the Head Table is a stark comparison to the noisy chatter from the students. I watch them intently. Occasionally, one or two of them glance up at me and then quickly turn away. This greatly amuses me.

I am suddenly distracted by a black mop of hair floating around the premises of the Gryffindor table.

Potter.

He stands in the middle of a group of giggling Gryffindor girls, chatting animatedly with them. Ever the_ celebrity_. His hair is in a mess as usual, but the emerald green robe he wears today looks surprisingly… snug. Looks like the physical training the Aurors go through these days must be quite… vigorous. And his arse looks particularly… Hmm. I stare at him for a while, he doesn't notice me. Why would he?

I hear giggling.

"Pray tell, what's so funny Minerva?" I ask, annoyed.

"Nothing, Severus. Quite the view, isn't it," Minerva smiles politely, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, reminding me of a certain Headmaster.

"Wha… What are you implying foolish woman?" My cheeks are starting to feel warm.

"Nothing. Potter looks good in those new robes doesn't he?"

"How would I know!" I reply, defensively. I am quite certain my cheeks betray me.

"Why Severus, your face is positively red! Are you quite alright, my boy? Here, have a sausage!" Slughorn places a sausage on the plate in front of me and looks at me with concern.

"I… am… fine," I grit my teeth.

The bloody old harpy of a woman is trying to suppress her laughter. I grab my copy of the Daily Prophet in front of me and then stand up abruptly, causing my chair to create a loud screech as I kick it backwards. The sound echoes loudly. All eyes in the Great Hall turn to me. Potter looks at me, confused. He smiles uncertainly and then raises his right hand slightly. It looks like he is about to wave at me.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't…" Minerva whispers. I stop her from saying anything else and storm out of the Great Hall, my black robes billowing behind me.


	5. Unhand Me, Potter!

**The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 5**

**Unhand Me, Potter!**

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><p>I have never felt so embarrassed in my life. Okay, perhaps I have... once or twice. But still!<p>

I am rushing back to my office when I hear someone running after me.

"Severus!"

I do not turn around, I continue walking. The anger inside me is burning.

"Hey, wait up! Severus!" he calls again. I ignore him and increase my speed.

In a mere instant, I find myself pinned against the stone wall of the corridor.

"Unhand me, Potter! NOW!" I snarl.

Potter is a head shorter than me, and yet somehow, he still manages to look pretty intimidating. His right hand holds down my left shoulder, the other hand pushes against the wall.

"Wait, I just want to… What just happened there Severus?" Potter mumbles, but there is a certainty in his eyes.

"Nothing of your concern, Potter. Now get off me!" I push him off me and he stumbles backwards slightly.

"But wait… I just want to know if you're okay. I mean, did I do something wrong? I don't know, that look you gave me before you left the Hall… I figured I did something to upset you… or something," Potter continues, rubbing the back of his neck.

I sigh. "It's nothing, Potter. I am just… not a morning person," I say. I have no idea why I am entertaining his stupid questions.

"Oh, ah yeah, that happens to me sometimes too. I get all grumpy in the morning. Well, sometimes at least," Potter smiles.

For some reason, my heart is beating increasingly fast. Strange.

"Fantastic. I am leaving now," I drawl on sarcastically.

"Erm, anyway Severus, Lily tells me you're coming with us to Hogsmeade later on today. I hope she didn't force you or anything. She can be pretty persuasive," Potter laughs.

"I agree," I allow half a smile to grace my face.

"So err… you're coming right?"

"So it would seem. I don't have to though."

"NO! I mean, no, it's cool if you come. We'd love to have you there. I mean, Lily would appreciate the company and all," Potter laughs nervously.

His behaviour puzzles me. "Fine. I look forward to it," I reply.

"Great! It's a date!" Potter says happily. Just as soon as the words have come tumbling out, he smacks a hand across his mouth.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Err, okay, I mean… That is not what I meant. But you know what I mean…"

"Stop mumbling, Potter. A Professor should speak with an air of confidence and certainty. Now, if you'd excuse me," I nod at him and then walk back to my office.

I let out a smirk.

That strange, strange brat.


	6. Why Do Potters Pout?

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Sorry it's taken so long for me to update this thing. Have been busy with work, so I'm mainly gonna be able to work on this over the weekends. Here's a slightly longer chapter than usual! Enjoy! (: And do keep those reviews/messages coming, really appreciate all your feedback and support! (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 6<strong>

_**Why Do Potters Pout?**_

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><p>Hogsmeade is today, at a lack of a better word, beautiful. It has been a while since I last stopped to appreciate the sunlight. It streams down endlessly on the shop windows and bounces against the gravel on the pavements. The air is slightly chilly and I feel thankful that I have remembered to put on an extra coat over my robes.<p>

I stroll down Hogsmeade's streets, and glare at students who seem shocked that their _evil_ Headmaster is wandering through such a seemingly happy place. I deliberately stop by the entrance to Zonko's and give my trademark _you-better-not-be-up-to-anything-funny_ stare at students hurrying out of the establishment. I should remember to write a letter to the Ministry soon about closing down Zonko's. The products the students purchase from this place has been nothing short of a nightmare for the rest of the Professors and I. Suddenly, I am reminded of the war and the Weasley twins, now… twin. I feel a slight pain in my chest but manage to shrug it off. In a war, everyone loses. And though I was never a friend of the Weasleys, I respect them all the same. They gave what was necessary so that others may live. Nothing is ever fair.

It seems criminal to be harbouring such dark thoughts on such a pleasant day. But I cannot help it. It is me, and for me, the pain never stops. The memories engulf me when I least expect it. Having Fawkes next to me, helps a little. But the bird is no prisoner of mine, or so I force myself to believe.

Finally, I find myself at the door of the quaint tea shop I had promised to meet Ms. Potter and the brat at. I suddenly feel nervous and the tiny droplets of sweat on my palms do not help either. No idea why. I push open the door and several students, couples I presume, stare at me. A mixture of shock and fear comically etched on their faces. Probably wondering why their horrible Headmaster has chosen to grace such a strange setting. I bite my lip slightly, stopping myself from breaking into a slight laugh. Some of the students look ready to bolt, so I avoid their glances and look for the Potters.

Before I even manage to spot them, a high pitched voice calls from the corner, "Severus!" At first I assume it to be Ms. Potter's. I soon realise it is her father's slightly shocked voice. I smirk and walk towards the pair. It is difficult to fathom who, out of the pair, looks more pleased about my presence. Both seem to be grinning widely at me, and for a moment I wonder if there is something funny about my appearance.

"Potter, Ms. Potter," I nod politely towards Lily. Potter gestures at me, willing me to sit down. I do.

'Sev! I knew you would come! Dad said you wouldn't!" Lily exclaims, leaping to hug me. I pat her back twice, awkwardly, suddenly conscious that other students might be watching.

"I didn't say 'wouldn't', I just said 'might not'," Potter mumbles.

"I would have assumed, by now, you would have stopped doubting my word, Potter," I eye him curiously.

Potter looks taken aback. "No no, Severus, nothing like that. I was just… I mean, I wasn't sure. But you're here! That's excellent! Thanks a lot, Lils," Potter huffs.

"Stop pouting, Potter," I say calmly.

"Yeah Dad! Stop paw-ting! Whatever that is!" Lily chides.

Potter laughs and then continues, "Alright! So anyway, let's have some ice-cream! What would you like, Lils?"

"I'll have… two big scoops, really, really big scoops of chocolate ice cream… and Sev will have two scoops of cinnamon ice-cream!"

"Thank you for that, Ms. Potter, but I can decide for myself," I say, raising my eyebrow at her. Lily begins pouting as well. Bloody Merlin, pouting seems to be an acquired trait with the Potters.

Potter laughs. "Okay, so what will it be Severus?"

"Two scoops of cinnamon ice-cream," I say, ignoring Lily's wide smile.

"What… Okay, sure. But how did you know?" Potter asks Lily.

"Because Sev has cinnamon everything in his office! Cinnamon cookies, cinnamon sugar quills, cinnamon candies, everything!" Lily beams.

"Very astute, Ms. Potter."

"Oh wow, I feel my daughter knows more about you than I do, Severus," Potter says slowly, a hint of… envy perhaps, on his face? Strange.

"You do not know the half of it, Potter. No one does," I drawl, observing my surroundings. My right hand is resting on my wand in my pocket, as it always does. It's become somewhat of a habit.

"I beg to differ," Potter challenges, a brief glimmer in his eyes.

"As you say," I say coolly, though my mind is racing trying to make sense out of that last statement.

Just then, a witch in an obnoxiously large red hat with sparkling diamonds (probably fake) comes up to our table and takes our orders. Potter orders two scoops of strawberry ice-cream for himself and places the order for the both of us. This makes me slightly uncomfortable and I resist the urge to stop him and order for myself instead. It wouldn't be polite, I suppose.

It is strange how these days I seem to be more conscious of my actions. I was never one to care about what people would think of me, but somehow, I feel a need to be… better behaved in front of Potter. I am unsure why. Potter seems changed, different, and somehow I feel a need to reciprocate these changes.

There is a strange smell, probably incense… sandalwood? It makes my nose twitch slightly. Potter seems to notice this and says, "Never could stand the smell of this place. But the ice-cream's worth the torture."

Before I can stop myself, I say, "I quite agree."

The ice-cream arrives and Lily lets out a shriek of excitement. It seems as if she is about to stick her fingers in the ice-cream and devour it completely, but then she pauses and her gaze shifts to me. I pretend I do not notice and make quite a show of extending my napkin outwards and placing it on my lap, and then slowly picking up my spoon and scooping up a small portion of the ice-cream before placing it in my mouth.

Lily immediately mimics my actions and then nudges her father to do the same. It is then I realise that Potter is attempting to stifle a laugh, his hand clasped tightly over his mouth, but he obliges anyway. I allow myself a slight smirk.

The afternoon goes better than I expected. Potter manages to hold a decent conversation with me. We talk about work, annoying students, the better students, the other Professors and he even claims to be helping the Granger girl with some Potions research for her work at the Ministry. When he senses my shock about the last topic, he says, "Well, don't worry, Severus. The worst thing that could happen would be me accidentally blowing up the Ministry." He proceeds to tap my hand reassuringly with his. I flinch slightly and he notices, causing him to withdraw his hand faster than a charmed snitch.

Lily manages to break the awkward silence by letting out a loud yawn.

"Cover your mouth, Ms. Potter. It's unbecoming of a lady," I chide.

"Oops! Sorry, Sev. Am just tired that's all. Can I rest on your lap, Sev?" Lily asks.

"Wha…" Before I can even complete my response, Lily has already proceeded to shift her chair as close to mine as possible and is settling her head on my lap, carefully adjusting my robes to form a makeshift pillow under her head.

"Why don't you go lie down on your father, young lady?" I ask her, slightly embarrassed that Potter looks so pleased at this occurrence.

"Dad doesn't wear enough robes like you do," Lily says and then stretches her legs out on her chair next to mine. I watch her for almost a minute, and before I know it, she actually seems to have fallen asleep on me. I sigh exasperatedly.

Potter is beaming. "Well, at least there is no way you can escape from me now, Severus."

"What are you on about, Potter?" my eyes narrow at him.

"Nothing, just that whenever I try to talk to you alone these days, you always seem busy with one thing or another."

"That's because I usually am busy."

"Right. You know, she doesn't quite take to the other Professors as she does to you, Severus," Potter smiles.

"Your daughter has good taste," I smirk.

"So do I," Potter says.

"What?" I am taken aback by his last statement.

"Nothing…," Potter says and then suddenly seems more interested in attempting to clean his glasses with his robes.

I lazily raise my wand and mumble a cleaning spell at his glasses.

"Oh, oh… right, thanks," Potter says and then nervously runs his fingers through his hair. I eye him curiously.

"So err, this was nice, right? This afternoon and all?" Potter mumbles, it's as if his whole persona has changed from the confident babbling git he was a few minutes ago.

I nod, almost as if urging him to go on.

"So anyway, I was wondering right, you know, if you wanted to, perhaps we could do this again sometime? Onlyifyouwantto... Ifyoucantitsokay!" Potter almost gasps for breath as he finishes.

I suppress a smile. "And why would you… want to do this again, may I ask?" I challenge.

"I mean, maybe, like the next time, it could be, just the two of us… you know? Like somewhere without so much of incense and stuff…" Potter babbles on.

"Yes, but why Potter? Don't you have other ways to spend your precious time instead of wanting to waste it all on me? I'm sure there are tons of witches just vying for attention from the famous Harry Potter," I say. I can't help the sour taste that lingers in my mouth after I say it.

This statement has obviously hit home with Potter and his face has turned a deep shade of red. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and bites his lips.

"Why do you always have to say stuff like that?" he says, very calmly, very un-Potter like.

I shrug, pretending I am not affected by how easily I am still able to get him to be that angry. He just seems to be managing the anger better now for some reason.

"Okay, look, Severus. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. I mean, since I came back to Hogwarts, I feel like we've slowly gotten to know each other a little better each day. And I… I like what you're like…" Potter continues slowly.

"Nonsense…" I begin but am cut off by Potter.

"No! No, Severus, what I'm trying to say… is that… I like you," Potter says, nervously fiddling with the sides of his glasses.

He what…?

"Is this some sort of prank Potter? Because if it is, I must say I have been duped enough in my lifetime, and do not deserve any further treatment of the sort…" I say angrily, feeling the blood rushing to my face, unsure if it is because of the anger or because I'm struggling to fight the blush which is threatening to engulf my cheeks.

"No, this isn't a prank, Severus. I just… I came back to Hogwarts, partially because… I wanted to get to know you. You're a mystery to me, and I like that about you. I know you might not feel the same way, but I just… I just want things to be good between us you know? Not that it isn't good now, just that I want it to be… better. The best. I know you might not feel the same way about me… you probably don't even think of me as a friend I suppose…," Potter continues, but I am not paying attention. All I can think about is the fact that Potter has admitted to… "liking" me.

This thought tugs at my chest and I feel a strange warmth. It is perhaps a combination of this strange warmth, and the overwhelming smell of incense that makes me say something I didn't even intend to –

"I… I am fond of you too, Potter."

Potter looks like he has just been slapped across his face. The blush on his cheeks seems to spread all over his face, and threatens to move towards mine too. I feel silly and foolish. Like a teenage girl sitting in Madam Puddifoot's confessing her love to her boyfriend over ice-cream. I do not know what to say.

"Oh wow." Potter grins sheepishly. "That's… cool."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Err, so… maybe Saturday next week? I'll make some plans and let you know?" Potter mumbles.

"Alright," I manage. Stupid Severus, stupid foolish old man. I know I shouldn't but I can't stop myself. I just have to accept his offer. I feel like a pervert. A dirty old man chasing after his ex-student. But at the same time, there is something about Potter that is… wholesome. Being around him these days makes me feel, better. Less… dark.

"Well, I suppose you should start calling me, 'Harry' then, since we're going out and all," Potter remarks, grinning.

"Don't push it, Potter," I say.

"Severus Snape, why do you affect me so?" Potter laughs heartily and I shake my head at him. I could ask him the exact same question.

"Looks like I'm going to have to carry her back," Potter indicates the little girl curled up in my lap.

"I can do it. You would probably wake her," I say as I carry her in my arms. Looking at her reminds me of Lily Evans. And I feel a sudden pain in my chest.

What would Lily say now if she knew I was pursuing her son? _I trusted you Severus, and this is what you do?_ Or perhaps_, what's wrong with you Severus? I knew you were disgusting from the start._ The guilt is overwhelming. Instead…

"Love you, Sev," Lily Potter mumbles from inside the folds of my robe, before settling back to sleep again.

It takes all my strength not to stand there flabbergasted.

Potter beams proudly as he and holds the door open for us.


	7. Kiss and Tell

**The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 7**

_**Kiss and Tell**_

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><p>Since last Saturday afternoon, I find myself skilfully trying to avoid Potter. Whenever I bump into him in the hallways of the castle he merely babbles on endlessly about pointless topics. To think, just yesterday, he stopped me in the corridor and asked, "Err, oh hey Severus, off to class? Oh wait, you don't teach anymore right? Ha...ha… So… read any good books lately?" I glared at him for a few minutes and then stormed off.<p>

Honestly.

This twit is the bloody saviour of the Wizarding world?

Still, I must admit the effect I have on him these days quite… pleases me. When he was merely a boy I could sense his fear and disgust whenever I said anything to him. Now, the fear remains, but of a different sort. And the disgust has been replaced with… I don't know what it has been replaced with, but whatever it is, it's causing the brat to stumble over his every word.

In hind sight, perhaps it was too soon to admit my fondness towards him. But when you've been through what I've been through you never take things for granted. When you're staring death in the face, yours or that of your peers, you never think twice. You do whatever it takes to survive. That's all life is to me. Surviving. And even though the war is over, I still feel like my death lingers behind every door I open next.

When Potter is around however, I feel… safe. For some reason, I've come to associate Potter with hope. If that scrawny 18 year old teenager could defeat the Dark Lord and not only survive, but remain as he always was - a blithering babbling idiot, then perhaps there is hope for us all. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, Severus Snape still exists. Not the puppet whose strings were pulled by two masters, not the fool who dove head first in love with a woman who'd never love him back, not the lonely boy shielding himself from his father, not the greasy, evil Potions Master. But I am too scarred. Every tear Fawkes cries confirms this. I am too far gone, and I was stupid enough to think I could achieve happiness, just for one brief moment… with Potter.

Fool.

It's nearly midnight but I am unable to fall asleep, so I decide to take a stroll around the castle grounds. For the first time in many days, I walk, and walk, not knowing my destination. Upon reaching the Quidditch Pitch I immediately notice a broom zooming around the pitch in circles. At first I assume it to be a student, but the stranger's stature is too big to be that of one. I raise my wand, a curse waiting upon my lips. The broom lingers in mid-air and the stranger stares down at me.

"Severus? That you?"

Oh, bloody hell.

I lower my wand as Potter slowly descends, his feet landing smoothly upon the ground. He's wearing an old Gryffindor team jersey with a pair of slacks. He's obviously been flying for a while because the sweat on his face has caused his fringe to stick to his forehead.

"Watcha doing here?" Potter asks, frantically trying to flatten his hair.

"I could ask you the same question," I mutter.

"Ah, couldn't sleep. The usual," Potter explains.

"Nightmares?"

"No, just… too much thinking."

"That's new."

"Shut up, Severus," Potter mutters as he slumps down on the ground, legs outstretched. He beckons at me to sit down next to him.

"Language, Potter," I smirk as I settle down beside him, carefully adjusting my robes.

"Was just trying to get ready for tomorrow's Quidditch lesson. Been a while since I've been on a broom. I can barely keep up with James and Albus these days," Potter laughs, and as the moonlight illuminates his face, I see age catching up with him. He doesn't look old, but he doesn't look like a child any longer.

I nod in response.

"Ginny sends her regards by the way," Potter adds.

"Ah, so how is Ms. Weasley these days?" I ask, half-heartedly.

"Oh, she's good, I dropped Lily off at her place yesterday. Ginny's getting married soon, you know," Potter says, his face bearing no trace of expression.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's cool though, I'm happy that she's happy. She could use the help, you know. Handling the kids all the time isn't so easy," Potter continues.

I nod again.

"So I'm curious, Severus. Of everyone here, you're the only one who hasn't asked me why me and Ginny didn't work out…," Potter eyes me.

"Why should I?" I question.

"Oh, I don't know… I mean, nah, forget I said anything…," Potter mumbles.

"I am curious though. I just don't like to pry," I say.

"Ah, right. Why waste your time with mundane affairs right… Ha…ha…" Potter nervously ruffles his hair. Normally, I wouldn't press such a topic further, but Potter seems to want to talk about said topic, so I look at him, urging him to continue.

"Well, I guess, things didn't work out because I wasn't the same person she fell in love with. The war changed me," he says and then looks at me.

Ah, the war. I shift uncomfortably.

"I just, after everything, I tried so hard to get things back to how it was before. With us, I mean. I forced it too much. And it didn't work. And I was never there enough for her, I kept drowning myself in work at the Auror's office, trying to forget everything that happened. But I couldn't," Potter mumbles.

"It never goes away does it, Severus?" Potter asks, the moonlight bouncing off his glasses.

"What, Potter?"

"The pain?"

I turn away from him.

"No, it doesn't, Potter. It never goes away," I say.

For a moment, we say nothing. All we can hear is the hooting of owls from the Owlery. Crickets. Damp grass. Wind.

"But you know, Severus. The strangest thing of all?" Potter breaks the silence.

"What might that be?" I turn to him slightly.

"After I left the Auror's office, something kept forcing me back to Hogwarts. Kept pushing me to come back here. And it worked. It was pretty weird at first, being back here and all. But then I started talking to you, and things were different, you know? And it felt better. Like a weight was lifted. You understood, and I never had to say anything," Potter continues.

I am unsure what to say at this point. It almost feels like Potter is pulling words out of my mouth.

I nod. I turn to him. I want to say something, but I'm not sure what.

"We're survivors, Severus. That's all we are. And we make the best of it," Potter speaks with such confidence in his voice, I can almost sense his magical signature pulsing through my veins. I am suddenly aware of how close he is next to me, and how thoroughly unbothered I am of this.

"Exactly," is all I manage to say before I lean in and place my lips upon his, clumsily, hopelessly grasping for more. Potter isn't even startled, it's like he's been expecting this, waiting for me to make the first move. He pushes me backwards and claims my lips, biting gently, his tongue manoeuvring skilfully around my mouth.

When we finally break apart, we're gasping, panting for air. Potter's face is red once more, and I dread to think that mine might be the same shade as well.

Potter smiles sheepishly at me. I realise his entire body is pressed against me. That warm feeling in my chest is back again.

But this time it is too much. It overwhelms me.

I nudge him away gently and struggle to get up in the most dignified way I can.

"What… Severus? Where you…" Potter mumbles, confusedly.

"I apologise," I say and then rush back to the castle as fast as I can, not pausing to look back.


	8. Something Old, Something New

**Author's Note: **Hi guys, thanks a lot for the reviews and messages! Been a hell of a crazy week for me, so apologies if I haven't managed to reply everyone. Have been dying to get crackin on this fic all week. Finally, this chapter marks the beginning of well.. the main plot line that drives this story. Heehee. That's all I'm saying for now! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 8<strong>

**Something Old, Something New**

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><p><em>It never goes away does it, Severus? The pain?<em>

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><p>I awake in the morning to the painful throbbing in my head. The light from my window is blinding as I struggle to get up. I realise my robes are still damp. I seem to have fallen asleep in my Headmaster robes. I blink, trying to focus. Slowly, I remember why I'm lying here, head hurting, not in my nightgown, my breath reeking of Ogden's Finest.<p>

_Potter._

Stupid. So very stupid, Severus. How could I be so foolish to think I could be happy with that boy? And that's exactly what he is isn't he? _A boy_. Lily's boy. I spent my whole life protecting him, and now I threaten to mess up his life with my presence. I snarl, thinking about the headlines in the Daily Prophet if they ever found out.

_Death Eater Severus Snape's Unnatural Attraction to the Saviour of the Wizarding World!_

Catchy.

I sigh. A mistake, that's what last night was. A total mistake. And meeting him and Lily at Hogsmeade as well. And getting close to him, and even allowing us to have a cordial relationship. And… what happened last night. Surely Potter was drunk, or dazed, or exhausted from flying around the pitch. Or just plain insane. Perhaps the Dark Lord had managed to leave traces of magic in his head which muddled his brain functions or something.

But wait, the idiotic brat doesn't even have a brain.

I smirk at the thought, and then chide myself for even trying to find humour in this situation. _Fool_. I rise slowly, change into a new set of robes and proceed with my usual morning routine. Perhaps, if I just act as if I am unbothered and pretend that nothing has happened, this will all go away. Ridiculous, honestly.

Once I am done getting ready, I stand behind the door to my office and take a deep breath. I am Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Ex-Death Eater, spy for the Order. I have faced death numerous times and dealt with misery all my life. The last thing in this universe which could possibly affect me is the overgrown man-child that is Harry Potter.

Behind me, Dumbledore lets out a loud snore from his portrait.

I sigh, push open the door and face the world.

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><p>As I settle down on my seat at the Head Table, I realise there is no sign of Potter anywhere. McGonagall, as usual, is seated beside me. Sinistra and Trelawney at opposite ends. I briefly wonder where Slughorn is at present, it is unusual that he ever misses breakfast, or any opportunity to eat for that matter.<p>

Just as I have helped myself to a piece of toast, I am interrupted by a murmur of noise from the students as a student rushes into the hall, sobbing loudly. Miranda Rockhold, second-year. I don't care much for Gryffindors. She is accompanied by a group of students who appear to be comforting her. I find this rather strange, considering that Rockhold isn't one for pulling such attention-grabbing antics. As far as Gryffindors go, she is passably, a rather well-mannered student.

"Trouble in paradise?" I ask McGonagall. She appears to be as confused as I am. She leans forward in her seat, attempting to get a better view of the scene.

"Not a clue. I wonder if Harry knows about this. Where is he anyway? He's late for breakfast," McGonagall replies.

"Not a clue," I mumble.

The noise in the Great Hall is growing louder. I groan.

"Silence!" I shout from my seat. The hall grows quiet almost instantly. I fight back the emerging smirk on my face.

"Ms. Rockhold," I say slowly, motioning for her to come forward. Bloody Gryffindors. Classes haven't even started for the day and already they're causing a ruckus, as usual.

Rockhold looks up at me, her eyes, red, brimming with tears. Her auburn hair shading the rest of her face. She walks up to the Head Table slowly, books clutched against her chest.

"… Yes… Head…mas..ter?" she sobs, refusing to look up at me.

"What is the meaning of this?" I ask as the other teachers look over at us.

"No…thing, Head...master…" she mumbles quietly.

I sigh. "I am not going to reprimand you, Ms. Rockhold. I simply wish to know what has caused this… outburst of emotion, and why you have chosen to interrupt my breakfast this morning with it," I say.

"It's… Professor Potter, sir. I... I went to see him at his office to hand up my homework. I was an hour late. But he… he…," she sobs, unable to continue.

I am engulfed by a sudden feeling of dread.

"Potter? He what, Ms. Rockhold?"

"He… he deducted 500 points from Gryffindor. I… It's my fault, Headmaster. I was just upset that's… all. I'm sorry," she mumbles. At this point she is biting the back of her hand to stop herself from crying any further.

I am shocked, but as usual I do not show it. McGonagall on the other hand looks as if she has just been slapped across the face.

"FIVE HUNDRED POINTS? For late submission of homework? And from his own house no less? That's harsh, Severus. Even you must know that," McGonagall whispers, leaning close to me, so Rockhold is unable to hear.

"Thank you, Minerva," I say, glaring at her. Of course I know it's harsh. It's coming from Gryffindor's bloody Golden Boy for Merlin's sake. What the hell is up with Potter? Could it be because of… Ah, it can't be.

"Enough, Ms. Rockhold. Cease your crying at once. Do remember that tardiness is completely unacceptable at Hogwarts," I say, loud enough so that the other students can hear me. I reach for my breadknife and begin buttering my toast.

McGonagall stares at me angrily. I swear sometimes if that woman could use the Cruciatus curse on me without being sent to Azkaban for it, she probably would. She gives Ms. Rockhold an encouraging smile, but it isn't quite reassuring considering she is still shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

Ms. Rockhold nods sadly. "Sorry, Headmaster," she says quietly and turns, about to return to her seat.

"Oh, and Ms. Rockhold," I say, still buttering my toast.

"Yes, Headmaster?" she asks.

"400 points to Gryffindor."

Rockhold looks gobsmacked. McGonagall, even more so.

"For having the courage to admit your mistakes," I continue. "Now close your mouth, and return to your seat before I change my mind."

Rockhold quickly scurries away.

McGonagall shakes her head in disbelief. "I've been at Hogwarts for half a lifetime and just when I think nothing could possibly surprise me anymore, you go and pull this stunt! Severus Snape, I could kiss you!" McGonagall laughs.

"Please refrain from doing so," I scowl.

"Fair enough," McGonagall smiles and settles for patting my hand approvingly.

The gesture is small, but it feels highly comforting. I can almost imagine Albus saying, with that twinkle in his piercing blue eyes, _"Good one, my boy. Well played."_

I shudder. What has become of you, Severus Snape?

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><p>It takes me all of breakfast to decide to go investigate. The thought of having to deal with Potter makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. And yet, I am Headmaster after all. If any member of my staff is behaving strangely, it is only right that I see to things. Or at least, make some attempt to do so.<p>

Before setting out to comb the castle for Potter, I decide to stop by my office to sort out some paperwork. Just as I am about to settle down on my desk, I am accosted by a heap of red feathers.

"Fawkes! For the love of…!" I shriek, trying to get the phoenix to settle down and stop fluttering in my face. I finally manage to calm the bird down, but he continues to leap up and down eagerly on my desk.

"Is something wrong? What's going on?" I ask. He stops bouncing and glances at me, almost mockingly. I raise an eyebrow.

"Don't be coy with me. Come here," I hold out my arm and he perches himself upon it. I examine him closely.

I gasp. There is a tuft of feathers missing from the left side of his body, almost as if someone has ripped it off. A bright red patch remains on his skin.

"Winky!" I call.

Within a second, the elf appears before me. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Fetch Hagrid. Immediately, go!"

"At once, Sir!" Winky nods, and then disappears.

"Did you sustain this injury while hunting? Were you attacked?" I ask out loud. Fawkes just looks at me.

I drum my fingers against my desk, thinking.

"But you can heal yourself. So why would you not… Oh," it finally hits me.

"You wanted me to see this. You wanted me to know you'd been injured. Or possibly… attacked?" I ask. Fawkes stops leaping and hops closer towards me. I stroke his feathers gently.

"Do not worry, my friend. You're safe. I will keep you close," I say, but my heart is thumping fast beneath my chest.

My thoughts seem to be pounding against my skull. Why would someone attack Fawkes? To get to me? But no one knows that Fawkes is my Horcrux. Only Albus. And Albus wouldn't tell anyone. It's impossible that anyone else knows.

Should I have kept the bird closer to me? But if I learnt anything from the Dark Lord, it was to never draw suspicion to yourself. Never let anyone see what you value most, because then, they would draw assumptions as to why you value said object so much. I'm sure it didn't take Potter and his nosy friends too long to figure out Nagini was a Horcrux, considering the Dark Lord never went anywhere without her. And with the Ministry keeping such a close watch on me after the war… I was so sure it would only be a matter of time before they realised what was going on. This is why I let Fawkes out to hunt freely. He returns to me as soon as he can. And he does get cranky when I leave him confined to my office for too long.

Still… have I been too arrogant once again?

It is unlikely that Fawkes was attacked in my office since I saw him fly in from the window. However, just to be safe, I cast a few spells to ensure that no intruders have entered my office. I secure the entrance, latch the windows and cast a soundproofing charm around my office before approaching Albus' portrait. Behind his signature half-moon spectacles, Albus' piercing blue eyes are darting from left to right as he reads a book whilst lounging on his chair.

"Albus," I call, hurriedly. Hagrid should arrive any minute now, and I want to end this conversation as soon as possible.

"Ah, Severus!" he looks up. "Something wrong, my boy? You look like you've seen a ghost! No pun intended. I'm just a portrait after all," Albus chuckles. The bloody old coot.

"Albus… does anyone know about Fawkes?" I ask, glancing at the bird instinctively, just to make sure he's still there.

Albus adjusts his spectacles, and moves closer towards me, the smile on his face disappearing quickly.

"No, I told no one. Only you," Albus says.

"Are you… are you certain?"

"Yes. You trust me don't you, Severus?"

"I… yes, of course, Albus. With my life. Quite literally too, considering," I say.

"What has happened, my boy?" Albus inclines his head, urging me to go on.

"Fawkes was attacked. I'm sure of it."

"Perhaps it was simply a wild beast or something of the sort? While hunting?"

"I thought so too, at first. But he wanted me to know. I've seen him cure his injuries before. He must think it's important, different somehow this time," I explain.

Albus merely nods, stroking his beard.

"Get Hagrid to make sure he's alright. Tell him Fawkes was injured while hunting. After he's done, go to the closet on the far right of the office and get the silver cage out. Keep Fawkes in there, and do not let him out no matter how much of a fuss he makes. It won't be easy, but he will be safe. I am sure of it. I have protected it myself." Albus instructs.

I nod.

"Be safe, my boy. You must not let him out, until you are sure there is no longer a threat. If he is harmed, Severus…," Albus continues but I stop him before he can finish.

"I know, Albus," I say. I can feel the blood coursing throughout my body, the sick rising from my stomach. It takes all my energy just to hold it down.

I am interrupted by several urgent, heavy knocks on my door. Hagrid.

"And Severus…" Albus looks at me.

"Yes?"

"Tell Harry about Fawkes."

"What? No! Why should I…" I gasp angrily.

"You must. Tell him as soon as possible. Promise me this, Severus," Albus cuts me off.

It is strange - even as he stands, a mere image on a portrait, simply a few inches tall, Albus dominates. He remains strong. This is Albus Dumbledore. Despite all his mistakes, you cannot refuse him anything, you cannot help but trust him. You would die to protect him. You love him fiercely, without reason.

Because you know he would never ask you to.

"Fine," I mumble.

"Excellent! Now I suggest you hurry, Severus. Before Hagrid breaks down your door. Don't know why you had it installed, honestly. I doubt the gargoyles enjoy staring at a piece of wood all day," Albus chuckles just as Fawkes lets out a loud squawk of amusement.

I sigh. My life is in the hands of an annoying bird and a dead, barmy old wizard.


	9. Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 9**

_**Something Borrowed, Something Blue**_

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><p>Oh, bloody goblins in hell.<p>

I let out a sigh after I finally manage to get Hagrid out of my office. The oversized oaf of a Professor spent a good hour or so fussing about the bird. Fawkes of course was only too willing to accept the attention bestowed upon him. After Hagrid was done combing his feathers for a good forty minutes or so, Fawkes finally gave in and healed himself. At least the bird is well. Merlin knows he could have been even worse off if the attacker was more skilled.

I head to the closet and retrieve the silver cage Albus has mentioned. When I touch it, the cage tingles with magical energy. Interesting. Specially protected, Albus? We'll see about that.

I place it on my desk, stand in front of it, wand at the ready, and immediately begin casting jinxes at the cage, every offensive spell I can think of. Fawkes zooms around the room excitedly. After about ten minutes of spell-casting, the cage barely budges. Some parchments on my desk have caught fire though, and I lazily mutter, "_Aguamenti". _

It seems Albus wasn't lying. The cage is well protected indeed. It is then I start to realise that the cage has no doors, no way for it to open so Fawkes can get inside it. I touch the metal rims and nothing happens.

"_Alohomora._" Nothing. I mutter several other incantations in attempt to get the cage to open. I groan. Looking over at Albus' portrait I realise the old man is no longer there.

"Thank you very much, Albus. For nothing," I mutter, staring at the massive silver cage.

Fawkes abruptly stops zooming around the room and settles on my shoulder.

"Looks like we're going to have to wait for Albus to return before I get you inside this thing," I tell him.

Fawkes nips at my cheek. "Ouch! You stupid bird!" I exclaim and then watch as he zooms over to the cage. He turns briefly to look at me and then approaches it. The metal rims disappear as his beak touches it. He hops happily into the cage, and just as soon as he does, the rims materialise in front of him.

What in the world…

I attempt to stick my fingers through the rims to get to Fawkes but I am unable to. There appears to be a magical barrier of sorts preventing me from doing so. Ingenious.

"And can you come out of this cage?" I ponder out loud. In response Fawkes presses his beak against the magical barrier but is unable to move any further. Guess not. The phoenix settles down sadly at the base of the cage. I try to lift the cage up with my hands but it appears to be fixed to my desk.

"Sorry, old friend. This is only a temporary solution. You'll be out hunting again before you know it, I assure you." Fawkes appears to let out a squawk but I am unable to hear it. It seems the cage is sound-proof too. I sigh. Yet another one who suffers for my mistakes.

It is strange that Fawkes walked right into his makeshift prison. Albus did mention he would put up a fight. But Fawkes seemed to know what the cage would do, and still willingly allowed himself to be imprisoned by metal and magic. It's a testament of how serious the situation probably is, I suppose.

I'm starting to wonder how I am supposed to feed Fawkes when suddenly the bird does an excited hop and a medium-sized fish materialises in front of him. He gnaws at it appreciatively. He does another hop and a small container of water appears before him.

Oh.

I suppose Albus has thought of that as well.

I watch Fawkes for a few minutes and then realise it is no use worrying about this when Albus obviously has him well-protected already. I decide it is time to finally confront Potter about his reckless deduction of points for Ms. Rockhold's late homework. And perhaps if there is time, or an opportunity to mention it, I'll let him in on Fawkes, as Dumbledore requested.

Only_ if _there is time I suppose.

* * *

><p>I walk up to Potter's room which is situated at the Gryffindor tower but he doesn't appear to be in. I suddenly recall he has a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson at the moment. I groan and walk down several flights of stairs, my legs creaking. I am growing older faster than I probably should. I should probably find a way to legalize apparition within Hogwarts grounds, just for my perusal.<p>

Finally, I reach the entrance of the classroom, beads of sweat clinging to my forehead. This better be worth it. I take a quick glance inside and notice he seems to be giving a demonstration of sorts. He looks worse for wear, and his robes are a mess today. More messy than they usually are. He obviously hasn't shaved this morning. No one seems to notice me standing at the doorway.

"Alright, when I call your name, come forward," he says, slouched lazily against his desk. "I'll cast a couple of harmless jinxes on you and you try to deflect them."

Most of the students nod from behind their desks, but a tiny boy, in robes which are obviously too large for him, raises his hand sheepishly.

"Erm, Professor, what sort of 'harmless jinxes' will you be casting?"

"If I told you, I'd lose the element of surprise, wouldn't I? You'd already know what counter-jinxes to use, wouldn't you?" Potter mutters. "10 points from Ravenclaw for asking ridiculous questions."

The boy cowers in his seat and some other students begin staring down at their desks nervously, avoiding eye contact with Potter. This behaviour is highly uncharacteristic of Potter. He is usually as lenient as Professors get, and treats his students with a nice-ness that rivals even that of Professor Sprout.

I clear my throat. The entire class turns to look at me as I stand ramrod straight in the doorway. Potter's eyes dart towards me. He shifts slightly so he isn't slouching anymore, but still remains leaning against his desk.

"Headmaster?" Potter mumbles questioningly.

"I apologise for the interruption, Professor. If I may have a word…?" I ask, my heart beating unnaturally faster than it should.

"I'm in the middle of a lesson, Severus."

"I can see that, Potter. It truly hurts me to interrupt such an engaging and truly gripping lesson…" I say, just as a student fails to supress a loud yawn from the back of the class. "But I do think you can spare me just a few moments of your time."

Potter glares at me, jaw clenched.

"Liam, watch the class. The rest of you, read page 394. Three hundred and ninety four. Got it?" Potter questions.

The students nod, as Potter shuffles towards me. I take a few steps back and motion for him to follow me to the vacant classroom next door.

I take a seat on one of the desks in the room and watch Potter as he walks in, glowering at me. My stomach clenches slightly, but I remain nonchalant.

"Sit," I instruct.

"I don't think you called me in here for a picnic, did you, Severus? I'll stand if that's alright with you," Potter says, folding his arms across his chest. The stupid, ignorant child.

"Know your place, Potter," I snarl. "You are a Professor, not a child."

"Then I suppose you should stop treating me like one!" he shouts angrily. I reach for my wand and Potter instantly flinches. I see his right hand poised by his side, ready to reach for his wand as well.

I sigh, cast the sound-proofing spell I intended to cast, and then pocket it back. Potter furrows his brows and folds his arms again.

"I treat you like an adult, Potter. So your baseless accusations make no sense to me whatsoever."

"Really?" he questions, his tone full of sarcasm. "So undermining my authority… by reinstating Miranda with practically all the points I took from her… that's what you call treating me like an adult?"

"You were behaving like a child! 500 bloody points! What is wrong with you? The entire Gryffindor hourglass was completely empty. Not that I mind, honestly. But still, as a Professor, you need to exercise rational judgment!"

"Rational judgment? That's rich, coming from you, Severus."

I inhale deeply and exhale. Breathe, Severus, breathe.

"I… I may not have been too… rational before. But as a Headmaster, I am changed." I say.

Potter scoffs. "Right," he mumbles under his breath.

"Look Potter, I don't have time for whatever game it is you think you're playing. So just say what you want."

Potter sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. I fight an urge to attempt to flatten it out for him.

"Why did you leave me sitting there last night, Severus? I mean, we were talking and it was nice and everything, and then you kiss me…" Potter begins but I cut him off.

"I already apologised," I mutter.

"You didn't have to apologise for anything! I wanted it… too," Potter says, his cheeks turning a shade of magenta.

Oh, for the love of Merlin's beard.

"It's not right. You don't know what you want." I stare at the wooden planks of the floor.

"I do know what I want, Severus. Like I told you before, I want to be with you… I… I want you," Potter says.

"Don't be ridiculous Potter…"

"What are you afraid of, Severus?"

"Nothing!" I shout. I grip the bridge of my nose with my fingers. "Everything," I murmur.

Potter moves closer towards me, one hand in the pocket of his trousers, the other grazes my cheek. I refuse to look him in the eye.

"I know a man who never admits he's afraid even though he's shivering in his boots. He never backs down, he never gives up. He saves the world every day without even knowing it," Potter says, his hand is soft against the small scars on my cheek.

"Stop referring to yourself in third-person, Potter," I mumble.

Potter laughs. "I'm talking about you, Severus. You are the bravest man I've ever known."

I let out a small smile, I can't help myself.

"Then you're delusional. In case you've forgotten, Potter. I'm still on the Ministry's watch-list. Like it or not, I was a Death Eater. And there is the issue of…"

"My mother?" Potter interrupts. His hand stills for a moment, and I almost lean in to his touch, afraid he will walk away.

"Do you still… love her?" Potter drops his hand.

"I always will," I say softly.

"Oh," Potter says.

I look up at him and he stares at the floor, looking downcast.

"But not in the way you think. I thought I was _in love_with her once. Perhaps I was, very briefly, as a teenager. But she was more than that. She was the sister I never had, my closest friend. I was lonely. I simplified things. I was young, foolish. She was everything to me… she still is. But I don't love her in the way you assume," I explain, watching him closely.

"Oh," Potter says again, this time he smiles. "Look Severus, I don't care about all those things you mentioned earlier. You like me, and I like you. And here we are," Potter shrugs. "Accept it, live."

Yes. Live. Take it, Severus. Accept it. Why do you deny yourself things you know are meant for you? Take it.

Potter leans forward and kisses me softly on my lips. It is sweet, slow. I close my eyes and lean into it. Potter pulls me closer and I feel so lost. It is scary, and I am afraid, vulnerable and in complete bliss all at once. He pulls away to watch my face. One of his fingers lingers on my lips.

"Don't run," Potter says.

"I won't. Not anymore." I say.

"Good. Because then I'll have to chase you, and I'm getting tired of chasing after you," Potter laughs.

I smirk.

He holds me in his arms for a few moments. And nuzzles his cheek against my head. I can't remember the last time I have felt so… safe. And good.

"I… err, I should probably be getting back to class. And I'm sorry, about everything. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on my students. It was pretty childish of me I admit," Potter says, ruffling his hair again. This time, I reach out and run my fingers through his hair, straightening it out. He smiles.

"Indeed," I say.

Suddenly, we are interrupted by a large, brown, barn owl which flutters in through the door, a blue envelope held in between its' talons.

"Expecting mail?" Potter asks.

I shake my head and then pluck the envelope from its talons. It lets out a hoot of approval and flies away.

I open the blue envelope and glance at the contents. Inside, I slowly pull out a bright blue card.

I recognise the handwriting, I have seen it more times than necessary. Each time relaying a message of utmost dread.

"Who is it from?" Potter asks.

"Lucius Malfoy," I reply.


	10. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Author's Note: **Alright guys, this is my last chapter update for the weekend. Will continue again next week. Just felt compelled to write this one before I head to bed. It's pretty short, but I had to get the next two scenes out, been playing on my mind for ages. Enjoy! And keep those comments coming. (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 10<strong>

_**Something Wicked This Way Comes**_

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><p>"Why the hell is Malfoy sending you letters?"<p>

"Language, Potter," I say, glancing at the blue card in my hands. Potter plonks himself by my side on the desk and tries to clumsily get a better look at the card by leaning over my shoulder.

"_To Severus Snape, _

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, _

_This is to inform you that the Ministry of Magic will be organising the first ever "Battle of Hogwarts Remembrance Ceremony" in honour of those who lost their lives for the cause. We seek your assistance in this matter, and hope that with your permission, we will be able to hold the ceremony in the Great Hall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_We look forward to hearing from you. _

_Best Regards, _

_Lucius Malfoy_

_on behalf of the Hogwarts Board of Governors"_

"What? Why is Malfoy in charge of this? And didn't they kick him out of the Board?" Potter gasps.

"They did. Apparently they seem to have taken him back for some reason. I'm quite certain he didn't write this," I frown.

"But you just said it was his handwriting," Potter eyes me, curiously.

"It is. But it doesn't sound like him. Why Lucius would be performing secretarial duties for a Board he was dishonourably removed from… is curious, indeed."

Potter grabs the blue envelope from the table. Just as he does, a small piece of parchment falls out onto the floor. He picks it up.

"There's something else," Potter says and passes the parchment to me.

On it, scribbled in black ink, in the same elegant handwriting as that on the card –

"_Accept the request immediately. You'll find you cannot say no. Send reply directly to Shacklebolt, and no one else. Do not send owls to the Manor. Be at your office at 8 p.m. tonight. Recall the last thing I said to you the night before the Battle. Trust is vital, Severus."_

"What is he on about? You're Headmaster, you don't have to take orders from him!" Potter says angrily. "And what words? I don't get it…"

My head is hurting. I stand up abruptly. "Sorry, I have to go send the letter to Kingsley now," I say and begin to walk out of the classroom. Potter grabs my arm.

"Severus, what is going on? Tell me, I can help," Potter says slowly, not letting go of my arm.

"Go attend to your class. Look for me afterwards, and I will explain," I say.

"But Severus…" Potter is agitated.

"I promise to explain everything later. Go now, attend to your class… Harry."

The use of his first name disarms him. He smiles sheepishly, but his expression quickly changes back to the concerned look he has been wearing since the letter arrived.

"I'll find you later, Severus. I always will," he says as he kisses me lightly on the lips. I pause briefly to touch his face, and then make my way to the Owlery with haste.

* * *

><p><em><strong>1<strong>**st**** May 1998**_

The air is humid. It is raining heavily, the lightning blinds my eyes. I am standing on the porch of Malfoy Manor and I have never felt colder in my life.

I grip my wand tightly. Everyone has gone to sleep at different areas of the Manor. I haven't been able to have a good night's rest for months. How anyone can even close their eyes for even a fraction of a moment these days is beyond me.

Footsteps behind me.

"Lucius," I say.

The man is a wreck. Unshaven, unkempt, unarmed, unhinged.

"Enjoying the view?" he says nonchalantly as he leans against a pillar behind me. His arms are folded across his chest.

"You were always such a comedian, Lucius," I drawl.

There is an uncomfortable silence between us. We watch as the rain pelts down against the grass. The thunder roars from miles away.

"It feels like just yesterday we were playing chess in the Slytherin common room," he says.

I scoff. "Feeling sentimental?"

"Tomorrow we march to our deaths, Severus. He plays the tune and we march. We die tomorrow," he continues. I turn to face him. His eyes are bloodshot. If I didn't know better, I'd assume he's been crying.

"We die for _him_," I say, occluding my thoughts. The words burn my tongue. I feel sick, disgusted with myself.

Lucius shivers. "I know that," he says.

There is silence once again.

"Sometimes, I think I can see right through you, Severus," he continues.

I raise an eyebrow. The breeze blows my hair across my face.

"You doubt my loyalty, Lucius?" I snarl.

"No, not at all, brother. But I know you care about Cissa and Draco. I see the way you look at me these days. You're disgusted. You used to… respect me. Remember those days, Severus? How I helped you get back at Potter and Black? Remember the time we had them spitting out slugs for a week?" Lucius laughs, but it sounds choked, forced.

I avoid his gaze. I refuse to remember.

"You're right, you know. I am disgusting. A failure," Lucius stares ahead, his eyes lost in the glare of the lightning.

I am uncomfortable. I feel the weight of my robes against my body. The temptation to run into the darkness, cleanse myself in the rain and never return is overwhelming.

"Man up, Lucius. Tomorrow we fight," I say, turning around.

"I know. I just… I want to be on your side again, brother. If there's anything you can do… You know, I trust you with my life, Severus. If I… If I could do this all again…"

"Enough. Go to bed, Lucius. I will hear none of it," I say, stopping him. I know I cannot tell him anything. He must think I am the Dark Lord's until the very end. No matter how much I am tempted to save him, I know I cannot. He is lost. Just another loss for the cause. He has chosen his side a long time ago.

"Ego defecerunt mea draco," Lucius mumbles as he walks away.

_I have failed my dragon._


	11. An Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note: **Hullo! Alritey, I aim to get at least 2 chapters out by Tuesday. Here's the first one! Enjoy! And thanks so much for all the sweet messages/reviews. You guys are hella awesome, honestly. (: More answers to your questions coming up in the next few chapters. Not to worry, things will be tied up slowly as we move along. (;

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 11<strong>

_**An Unexpected Visitor**_

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><p><em>Ego defecerunt mea draco.<em>

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><p>I remember that night so clearly. The rain, the lightning tattooed against the dim skies before me. And those words, ringing through my head. It disarms me even now. All my life, my opinion on Lucius Malfoy never changed until that moment. He was always an egotistical bastard. And then those words came tumbling out of his mouth, spilling into my ears. Lucius, at probably the most vulnerable, desperate moment of his life, thought only of his son. The man thought he would die, and yet the only thought in his head was of his failure at protecting Draco. I think about those words every day. Even now I can't reconcile Lucius' narcissistic, hopelessly selfish nature and… those words.<p>

Perhaps it was simply a way of winning my trust, seeing as he knew that I cared for his son. But still… it makes me uneasy thinking that there might actually be some good in Lucius Malfoy. During the few times that I have met him after the war, at several bothersome gatherings, or at the Ministry for business, he's never spoken of that night before the Battle. He refuses to acknowledge it. And yet the fact that he has chosen to remind me of those words now… He must be desperate for me to trust him. And I am ashamed to say, I do. At least just regarding this matter. Whatever "this matter" is. And for Merlin's bloody sake, it better have nothing to do with Draco. That boy is a magnet for trouble.

I sigh. I suppose I'll have to wait and find out later tonight.

After spending several minutes wondering if I'm making the right decision about this, I hurriedly scribble on a piece of parchment my acceptance of the offer to host the Ceremony and attach it to the leg of a lone barn owl.

"Take this to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Go now, make haste," I say. The owl hoots softly and then flies out of the Owlery and soars across the clear skies in front of me.

You better be right about this, Lucius.

For a moment I am tempted to check on Draco, just to check if that boy is still alive and breathing. But I stop myself when I recall Lucius' words in the note.

_Do not send owls to the Manor._

Bloody Lucius and his cryptic messages.

I walk back to my office, trying ridiculously hard to shake off the uneasiness I feel. It's almost numbing. I reach the entrance of my office and find that the door is slightly ajar. Instantly, I reach for my wand and point it at the door. I am certain I cast enough protective spells on my office in the morning. I wave my wand slightly. The wards I set in place in the morning are gone completely. Only an exceptionally skilled wizard would have been able to break through those wards. And even then, they probably wouldn't have come out unscathed. But still…

And what of Fawkes?

I brace myself for a moment, a curse waiting on my tongue, and then kick open the door.

"_Incarcerous_!" I cry, and the lone figure standing my desk, collapses onto the ground, ropes binding him.

"Hey! What the…"

I walk up to the intruder and sigh.

"Potter? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why d'ya go and do that for! Geez, you were the one who told me to come here!" Potter says, struggling to free himself from the ropes.

"How did you get into my office?" I ask, eyeing him warily, wand pointed at him.

"I just opened the door and walked in, that's how!"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes… Severus, what…"

"What happened in the middle of your Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson this morning?"

"In the middle of my what…"

"Answer," I command.

"I… Well, I was all grumpy… because you know why. And then you came along and we went to a classroom and talked, and then I wasn't grumpy anymore. And then we umm…" Potter pauses, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. "Kissed." Potter coughs nervously. I groan.

"And then you get this letter from bloody Malfoy senior, which is why I came rushing over here, and then you decide to try to kill me! And then interrogate me!" Potter grumbles.

Sighing, I mutter a spell to free him from the ropes.

"I was simply ensuring that it was indeed your annoying self. I'm sure you're more than familiar with Polyjuice," I say, offering him my hand. He accepts it and I pull him off the ground. "And I didn't try to kill you. They're merely ropes, Potter.

"Ropes? Didn't know you were into that sorta thing, Severus," Potter grins, dusting dirt of his robes and adjusting his glasses.

I glare at him and then take a quick glance at my table where Fawkes should be in his…

Shit.

The cage is empty. I feel all breath leave me.

I frantically begin looking for Fawkes. Shit, shit, shit…

"… Sev? What's wrong? What are you looking for?" Potter asks, watching me as I rush around my office.

"Fawkes! If you think this is funny, you brainless little…" I call but am interrupted by Potter.

"Hey, hey, calm down, Fawkes is right here," Potter walks round to the back of my desk and emerges, grinning proudly, with Fawkes perched on his arm. He strokes the bird gently. The bird squawks softly as it leans into Potter's touch.

"You must have scared him when you came charging in through the door like that. He was in such a good mood just now and now he's gotten all quiet," Potter mumbles, smiling at Fawkes.

I watch them for a moment and feel a strange sense of warmth emanate inside me. I struggle to stop the smile playing upon my lips.

Suddenly, something jerks me back into reality.

"Wait, just now? How did you… Was Fawkes out of the cage when you came into my office?"

"Hmm? Nope, poor bird was moping about in the cage. Just reached in and got him out. Pretty cool cage by the way! Could have been easier if you just got one with a little door or something. But as usual, Severus Snape needs some sort of mysterious…"

"Reached in?" I ask. "You just… _reached in_?"

Potter nods, staring at me curiously, his lips pursed.

"Show me," I say, moving closer towards them.

Potter looks questioningly at me but doesn't probe further. He reaches down into the cage with his left hand, the metal rims disappear. Potter animatedly waves his hand at me from inside the cage.

"Tada," he mumbles as Fawkes squawks excitedly on his arm and then flies towards me, trying to perch himself upon my shoulder, albeit unsuccessfully. I extend my arm for him to rest on.

Potter removes his hand from the cage, the metal rims materialising again after he has done so. "What's the big deal anyway?" he asks.

I reach forward and touch the cage. However, just like before, I am unable to break past the magical barrier. Fawkes hops up and down on my arm.

"You can't do it?" Potter looks quizzically at me and then begins to prod the cage repeatedly, each time managing to get his hand in. He begins poking it with his wand, but the cage refuses to budge this time.

"Huh," he mumbles.

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"Do stop that, Potter," I groan. "Okay, you had your fun. Get back in," I say to Fawkes.

Fawkes' head drops sadly. I sigh. "You know you have to, old friend," I say. He lingers on my arm for a moment, nipping softly at my robes, but slowly flies back into the cage and settles down inside it.

"What do you mean he _has _to? The poor bird shouldn't have to be caged up, Severus. Albus used to let him…" Potter says but I stop him before he can continue.

"Yes, Albus used to let a lot of people do a lot of things. And now, I believe we need some answers," I say, grabbing Potter by the arm.

"Hey! What is…"

I drag a grumbling Potter with me to the section of the office where the portraits of the Headmasters of old are hung. Most of them seem to be either asleep, reading or chatting with one another. Albus is missing from his portrait.

"Has anyone been in my office since I left this morning?" I call out. Some look at me, while others look questioningly at one another.

"Not a soul, son. Except young Harry of course," Dippet says from his portrait, waving at Harry who smiles back politely.

The others nod in unison. "No one? Are you absolutely certain? Or were you simply not paying attention?" I ask, beginning to get annoyed.

"Why! Mind your manners, my boy! I for one was counting the tiles on the ceiling, a usual routine of mine which I perform once every afternoon, and I dare say, not even a fly has managed to trespass your wards, Severus," Everard grumbles.

"My wards, _are_ down," I say slowly, trying to reign in the frustration which is growing increasingly apparent from the expression on my face.

"They were already down when I came in," Potter says from beside me. "I did think it was kinda strange that your office wasn't warded when I came in. Figured you were just in the bathroom or something when you weren't at your desk."

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and I really just need to sit down for a moment.

"Severus, what is going on? Why would someone want to break into your office?" Potter seems just as frustrated as I am.

"I suppose you haven't told him yet, then?" a voice asks from behind me.

Albus.

"Albus? Told me what?" Potter walks towards Albus' portrait, leaving me standing alone.

"Why thank you, Albus, for gracing us with your presence. Did you know, that Mr. Potter here was able to reach into your supposedly well-protected cage and release Fawkes? Quite interesting, isn't it?" I say, bitterness pouring from my lips.

Albus merely looks at me and smiles.

"Quite interesting indeed, my boy," that familiar twinkle is back in Albus' eye.

"Explain. For Merlin's bloody sake, do explain!" I raise my hands in surrender.

"Calm down, Severus. I will explain everything as soon as you do too. To Harry, that is. You did promise me you would, you know," Albus says, smiling at Potter.

Potter returns the smile briefly and then turns to face me.

"I'm getting tired of these games, Severus. If someone doesn't tell me what the hell is going on, I swear I'll…"

I cover my face with one hand, willing the ground to just swallow me whole.

"Sit down, Potter. And I'll… explain," I say, summoning two chairs and placing them in front of Albus' portrait.

And I do explain.

I explain everything to Potter. And he sits there, watching me, listening without uttering a word. I can't read the expression on his face the entire time. He's hiding his emotions with a ferocity that rivals even my ability to do so.

When I am finished, a single tear slides down his cheek and onto his robes. Albus can't even bring himself to watch.

Potter approaches me, kneeling before me, placing his hand on my chest. My heart beats loudly beneath my robes. He looks as if he's about to say something, but stops himself. He leans down and places his ear against my chest, listening. His hair pressed against the folds of my robes. He reaches for my hand and grasps it tightly. I can't bring myself to let go. I close my eyes.

We stay like this for a while, saying nothing, doing nothing, but we both understand. We both understand the only thing that makes sense, and yet makes no sense at all.

It's simple, really -

We're alive.


	12. When the Time is Right

**Author's Note: **I am finally done with this chapter at last! Has taken me days of endless revisions, but here it is. Lots of chunky info ahead. The longest chapter thus far. Comments appreciated as usual. (:

Just a quick reply, because the PM function has gotten all wonky -

To HallowScope7, thanks, and yes! I am very much a happy Gryffindor - good traits, bad traits and all. I relate a lot with Harry for various reasons. But omg how did you guess? Although I have a strange suspicion that if I was in Hogwarts I would probably fall for a Slytherin. Hahaha.

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 12<strong>

_**When the Time is Right**_

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><p>Albus delivers a rather audible cough from within his portrait.<p>

It startles the both of us and we turn to face him. Potter hesitantly breaks away from me and settles himself on the arm rest of my chair, still maintaining a hold of my hand. I feel extremely uneasy knowing that Albus is watching the both of us. His gaze briefly lingers on our interlocked hands. I am in the midst of loosening my grip on Potter's hand, but Potter grips it even tighter, looking at me rather determinedly. I am unsure of what he's trying to prove but I oblige anyway.

Albus raises an eyebrow slightly. He almost looks like he's suppressing a smile.

"I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. Your turn," I say to Albus.

"Thank you, my boy." Albus nods and then settles himself on the chair in his portrait before continuing. "After I helped turn Fawkes into a Flibberwabbet…"

"A what?" Potter exclaims.

I sigh. "Albus' _delightful_ name for his invention. The Horcrux," I explain.

"Oh," Potter gives me a look which says 'you-can't-possibly-be-serious'.

"Let's just call it a Horcrux, Albus," I sigh.

Albus chuckles. "Well, it was worth a try. Figured it might catch on eventually."

"Albus…" I glare at him.

"Patience, Severus... So, as I was saying, once I was certain that Severus was in danger, and Fawkes' fate as a Horcrux was all but guaranteed, I knew I had to find a way to ensure that no harm would come to Fawkes..." Albus pauses and his piercing blue eyes meet mine. "And by… association… Severus as well."

"So several days and a ridiculous amount of complex spells later, I had managed to turn my mother's old bird cage into a protective place of sorts. The ultimate prison for any Horcrux, if you must. Nothing but a Horcrux can enter it, and once inside, it can never leave on its own," Albus explains further.

"But I managed to get Fawkes out, Albus," Potter interrupts, his brows furrowing.

Albus smiles softly.

"Exactly. After everything Fawkes has done for so many truly wonderful individuals, I couldn't bring myself to ever allow him to be imprisoned forever. Fawkes would never forgive me for it. As such, I knew I had to devise a way to release him. And that's where you come in, Harry." Albus' gaze shifts to Potter.

"At the point of securing the cage, I was well aware that you were Lord Voldermort's accidental Horcrux. You weren't aware of this at the time of course," Albus sighs sadly. "And I do not think I will ever be able to forgive myself for putting you through what I did."

"It's alright, Albus. Truly. What's done is done. It had to be done," Potter says, but watching the hardened expression on his face, I'm not too sure I believe his words completely.

"Thank you, Harry," Albus gazes at nowhere at all for a few moments and then continues. "So you see, my boys. It's simple. Harry is the only one who can trespass the magical barriers of the cage because he himself was once a Horcrux. The cage recognises the specific traces of magic which were once present in Harry. You may not have trusted Harry at the time, Severus. But I did, I still do. I knew once he found out the truth about you he would do anything it took to protect you. I knew he would understand. And I knew he would never abandon Fawkes either."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Potter avoids my gaze.

"And I truly am sorry for not letting you in on this earlier, Severus," Albus says to me.

"You should be," the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Albus sighs. "The time was not right, my boy. Can you imagine how you would have reacted if I told you then that your least favourite student was the only one who had the ability to truly harm you, Severus?"

"Least favourite student? That's the understatement of the century, Albus," Potter laughs.

I jerk my hand away from his. "This isn't a joke, Potter."

"Hey! Was just kidding, that's all…" the childish brat prods my arm repeatedly with his finger.

I glare at him and then cross my arms, but do not shift when he presses himself closer to me.

"So rest assured, Severus, no one can harm Fawkes as long as he remains in the cage. And if there ever is a need to release him, Harry can do so. Still, keep your guard up, my boy. I do not know what is going on, but I have a feeling that darker times are approaching," Albus says.

For a moment, all three of us are silent, each avoiding the other's gaze.

Suddenly, Albus claps his hands once and says, "Well then, that's done! Now Harry, where has that delightful daughter of yours gotten to? I must say I do miss our afternoon conversations. Other than perhaps Aberforth, no one else manages to sufficiently grasp the merits of Grumble the Grubby Goat like she does!"

* * *

><p>Bloody Albus. And bloody Potter as well. Why does he always have to be in the middle of everything?<p>

The remainder of the afternoon is spent making my usual rounds, sorting out paperwork and stopping to watch as Potter tries to teach overly-eager children how to play Quidditch. The man is surprisingly still quite agile on a broomstick, which makes me wonder why he's never decided to pursue a professional career. I linger from the corner of the stands watching him for a while. It is clear that the students are completely enamoured with him. Whatever animosity the Gryffindors may have had with him earlier today has been completely forgotten.

I have an early dinner at the Great Hall, secretly harbouring the hope that Potter may decide to take his dinner early today too. Unfortunately, he doesn't and I am left listening instead to Horace complain for a good fifteen minutes about how a student's Swelling Solution had exploded in his face just as he had bent down to inspect it. This had resulted in him obtaining several ugly green boils all over his arms and face which he proceeds to show me just as I am about to cut into my roast chicken. When he begins to demonstrate how the boils are "surprisingly bouncy" by poking at them with his wand, I immediately excuse myself and instruct Winky to bring the remainder of my dinner to my office.

I grow tired of people.

At my office, I finish up my dinner watching as Fawkes gobbles up pieces of fruit in his cage. It is almost 7, and I'm beginning to wonder if Lucius will be arriving at Hogwarts directly or if he simply intends to speak to me via the Floo. I take several glances at my fireplace, watching as the fire crackles against the pieces of coal.

Suddenly, there is a knock on my door.

"Enter," I say, expecting to see that familiar Malfoy cane pushing open the door.

Instead, a very sweaty Harry Potter comes sauntering in with a loud, "Hullo! Miss me?" He clumsily closes the door behind him.

I groan.

"Potter, as you know, I'm expecting a guest any minute now," I say, dabbing at my mouth with a handkerchief.

Potter laughs, placing his broomstick on my filing cabinet. "I know that. Sorry, I'm late, by the way. The Gryffindors wanted me to show them a couple of old Quidditch tricks I had up my sleeve." He grins.

"Late? You're not invited, Potter," I say.

"Well, thanks for the warm welcome Severus. And I miss you too," he rolls his eyes at me and then plants a kiss on my cheek before sticking his hand in the cage to briefly ruffle Fawkes' feathers.

"I'm serious, Potter," I say.

"There's a joke just waiting to be made there," Potter chuckles to himself.

"Wha…"

"Nothing, nothing. Anyway, you have got to be kidding me if you think I'm gonna be leaving you here all alone with Lucius bloody Malfoy. Who knows what he might do to you all alone," Potter mumbles as he plants himself on the corner of my desk – Lily's spot. He attempts to brush away the hair which is sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat.

"I am not an infant, Potter. And in case you've forgotten, I have been alone with Lucius many times, and he hasn't tried to kill me yet."

"Yeah, well, that's before he found out you were a spy, right?"

"Yes, and if he wanted to kill me, he had many opportunities to do so. Yet here I sit still, listening to you babble. And didn't the famous Harry Potter come to his rescue during his trial at the Ministry?" I smirk.

"Not funny, Severus. And I only did what was necessary for the Malfoys' at the time. It was only fair. It doesn't mean I trust him. Or any of them for that matter," Potter grumbles.

I hesitate for a moment. With that look of pure determination on Potter's face, I know that even if I sent him flying into the Forbidden Forest, the brat would probably find a way back to listen in anyway.

"Fine, stay. But say nothing. And for Merlin's bloody sake, Potter, can you please at least go take a shower first?" I say, twitching my nose slightly.

Potter grins sheepishly, sniffing at his robes. "Oops, mind if I use your shower then?" Potter asks, but before I can even answer he's making his way to my bathroom. "I'll be out before you know it! DO NOT start the conversation without me, Severus, you hear?"

"Sure, Potter. If Lucius arrives before you've finished, we'll just sit here gazing into each other's eyes longingly until you emerge from the bathroom," I tap my wand impatiently against my desk.

"Oh, ha ha. Okay, see you in a bit!" he grins, his hand upon the handle of the door to the bathroom. He turns around briefly and asks, "Sure you don't wanna join me?"

I glare at him.

"Fine, just checking, that's all!" Potter laughs and then enters the bathroom. I swear that brat will be the end of me.

Suddenly, my mind is flooded with images of Potter in the shower, and it takes all my strength to retain my composure. I shift uncomfortably in my chair. I still don't understand what Potter sees in me, and every few seconds I ask myself – is this some kind of joke? Some kind of cruel prank? But every time I see the look he gives me when he thinks I'm not watching...

"Severus."

I turn to my fireplace immediately. The head of Lucius Malfoy emerges from the burning coals.

"Lucius," I reply.

"Can I come through?"

"Yes, do."

After a few moments, Lucius Malfoy emerges from my fireplace elegantly, dusting bits of soot off his ebony robes. His long hair is whiter than usual, fastened neatly with a ribbon. The dark circles around his eyes are clearly visible, but somehow he manages to retain the infamous Malfoy composure. In his right hand he holds his cane, wand secured inside it.

He takes a look around the office and then eventually settles his gaze upon me. "It's been a long time."

I nod and then motion for him to take the seat across from me. He does, placing his cane on his lap as he settles down, yet maintaining a firm hold of it still.

"Drink?" I offer.

He shakes his head. "You look well, Severus."

"As do you."

Lucius scoffs. "You never could lie to me, could you, Severus?"

"Think what you will," I incline my head, nonchalantly.

Lucius ignores me, and then leans forward. "I have a lot to say, and not a lot of time to say it. My apologies for the delay. I had to use the Floo at Rosmerta's to get here. Just to make sure I wasn't being monitored."

"Being monitored? By who?" I ask.

"The Ministry. The Hogwarts Board of Governors."

"What have you done now, Lucius?" I question, frowning slightly.

Lucius laughs. It is a cold, hard laugh. It startles me slightly.

"Nothing, Severus. Nothing at all. I almost wish I had."

"What are you on about?"

Lucius shakes his head, as if in disbelief, a crooked smile ghosting his lips. Suddenly, he grabs my left arm and pulls it towards him.

"What…"

Lucius yanks back the cloth covering my arm and places his fingers where my Dark Mark once was. It is faded now, barely visible unless you look close enough.

"Let go of me, now," I say, attempting to pull my arm away from him. He loosens his grip slightly, but refuses to let go.

His grey eyes meet mine. His expression is pained.

"They're after us, Severus. Again," Lucius says, his fingers ghosting against my skin. He stares hard at me, waiting for a response, a question perhaps. But I seem to have lost the ability to speak. My mouth hangs open slightly, waiting for a command. There is none.

"Hey, Severus, do you have an extra towel or something? This one's gotten all…" Potter emerges from the bathroom, his wet hair clinging to his face, drops of water dripping from his bare chest. He is covered in nothing but one of my towels. He stops in his tracks, his gaze settling on Lucius' hand on my arm.

"Oh…" he gasps. He straightens his posture significantly, placing his hand on his hips in a failed attempt to look dignified. But it is difficult to look dignified when the only thing you're wearing is a towel.

"Lucius," he says firmly. I suddenly wish I was being eaten alive by wolves.

Lucius looks at Potter, and then back at me.

"It seems like I'm not the only one that has some explaining to do," Lucius says slowly, looking thoroughly dumbstruck.

I sigh. "Please, for the sake of all the bloody goblins in hell, do go put on some robes, Potter."

* * *

><p>After several minutes of probably the most awkward conversation in my life, the three of us settle down around my desk, Potter now dressed in robes he has summoned from his room. Despite my utter embarrassment at the situation, I manage to come up with an excuse for Potter's presence. I explain to Lucius that Potter was working on a potion with me in my office, and due to the clumsy brat's appalling potion skills, he had managed to completely destroy said potion, and explode its' contents all over himself. Lucius seems to believe the story, seeing as Potter had continuously rolled his eyes at me in annoyance (more believably than I would have liked) throughout my explanation.<p>

"I still do not understand why the boy has to be here, Severus," Lucius says to me, loud enough for Potter to hear. Potter looks as if he's about to charge head first at Lucius. I glare at him warningly.

"He is here upon my orders, Lucius. I believe he, of all people, can help us if need be. His standing with the Ministry will be the best weapon we have," I reply.

"I've not agreed to help anyone just yet, Severus. I'd like to hear what the hell is going on first, if you don't mind, Lucius," Potter leans back against his chair, arms folded. Lucius simply glares at him. I can tell that Lucius is doing everything he can to avoid speaking his mind at this moment.

He ignores Potter and then turns to face me instead.

"Fine, have it your way." Lucius mumbles, pauses for a second and then continues. "As you know, I served my time in Azkaban after the war. Three excruciating years… Within the first week of my _stay,_ I received a note bearing a name - Toby Hobbart. I had no idea who this man was, so I assumed the guards must have gotten the letters mixed up. You know how it is with these service people, completely inefficient."

"However, over the course of the following three years, I received a note every week. Each time, bearing a different name. At first, I didn't recognise any of the names. As time went on though, the names grew increasingly familiar. These were names of people I had… gotten rid of, both directly and indirectly," Lucius hesitates slightly, tapping his cane against his lap. Potter bites his lips and watches me. I show no expression and urge Lucius to continue.

"When I asked the guards who had sent me the notes, they refused to tell me anything. That was when I knew this mysterious sender must be someone influential enough to exert control over the guards. I showed the notes to Cissa and Draco when they visited but neither recognised the handwriting. So I kept every single one, hoping to do some investigating of my own once I was released," Lucius explains.

"But I didn't have to. On the night before my release, I was told I had a visitor. The guards told me his name was Gregory Rowan. Rowan approached me in my cell and handed me a note with the name, "Margaret Rowan" scribbled upon it in the same handwriting as the other ones. He looked me in the eye and said nothing else to me other than, '_you will pay for what you did._'" Lucius continues.

"Margaret Rowan? His wife? His mother, perhaps?" I question. I do not recognise the name.

"His daughter, actually. Rookwood's handiwork. The Dark Lord had sent the both of us out one night to keep watch at a small village just outside Hogsmeade. The girl was plucking berries or some activity of the sort. Rookwood panicked, thought someone was sneaking up on us and killed her. I was there, but I had nothing to do with it. I did have to clean up after the bumbling fool. It's possible her father detected some trace of my magical signature or something similar and thought that it was I who killed her," Lucius says.

Potter has his head in his hands. "You as good as did," he says finally, his voice full of spite.

"I am by no means a good man, Potter. But I have paid for my crimes, and in more ways than simply being tortured within Azkaban's walls. This is something you will never understand, and I suggest you don't even attempt to do so," Lucius says fiercely.

Potter simply shakes his head, and gazes at the ceiling instead.

"Do continue," I say.

Lucius nods. "I discovered later that Rowan is the Vice-Head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and holds a high rank within the Unspeakables. My sources tell me that he is gunning for Shacklebolt's role as the Head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors and possibly his position as the Minister of Magic as well. Worst of all, he's been trying his hardest to re-open the case files of former Death Eaters and suspected sympathisers of the Dark Lord. He wants to increase the severity of the punishments, impose the Kiss upon those who are simply serving time at Azkaban. He is especially interested in you, Severus," Lucius says.

"But Severus has been cleared of all charges! There's no way Kingsley would allow it!" Potter exclaims angrily.

"Don't be so naïve, Potter! You think Rowan cares about that? As far as he's concerned, he thinks that Severus should pay for his crimes, whether or not he did it for a good cause. And Shacklebolt is aware of this. He's been doing everything he can to stop Rowan from trying to re-open the case files. But he will fail. Rowan has many supporters within the Ministry. Influential supporters. It's only a matter of time." Lucius says, a cold glimmer apparent in his grey eyes.

"His first test was to see if you would accept to host the Remembrance Ceremony, Severus. The letter was due to arrive a week prior to the day you actually received it. He deliberately sent it out later, hoping that it would seem as if you had refused to host it. Hoping he could use your refusal as material to convince his supporters that you were still a sympathiser of the Dark Lord's… That the lives lost during the war meant nothing to you. It's a good thing you sent it out just in time. Kingsley received it during the Board meeting. Rowan pushed forward the motion for your removal as Headmaster of Hogwarts that day. Your progress as Headmaster is being reviewed but I'm not sure when the results will be released."

"This is complete rubbish! I was not informed of this at all!" I exclaim. My face is burning. So much anger. I am sorely tempted to begin throwing random objects across the room. Potter's is gripping the temples of his forehead firmly, his lips trembling.

"He's been forcing me to carry out trivial tasks for the Board in attempt to humiliate me further. He's threatened Draco's position at the Ministry if I refuse. But at least it gives me an opportunity to get a better idea of what's going on behind the scenes," Lucius says, a look of pure scorn etched across his face. "I offered to help him draft out the letter to you so I could slip you the note. He's been watching me, my family. He's been watching all of us, Severus," Lucius says.

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to go talk to Kingsley right away," Potter says, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpet.

"Think before you act, boy! If Rowan finds out you're involving yourself in this matter, things could get ugly very quickly. It won't take him much effort to soil your name and Kingsley's too," Lucius snarls.

"I don't care about my name!" Potter exclaims angrily.

"Ridiculous. You may not, but you are of no help to anyone if your name is sullied. As depressing as it may sound, you might actually be of some use," Lucius continues.

Potter glares at him. "You have no right to use me, Malfoy. I am my own person."

Lucius ignores him and turns to me. "I have to go. I've already stayed here longer than I should. I won't be contacting you again, not until the Remembrance Ceremony at least. Do what you must, Severus, and I'll do what I can."

I walk Lucius to the fireplace, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. I hand him a bag of Floo powder from the mantel and he sprinkles some over the fireplace. Before he steps in, I extend my arm and grip him by the hand.

"Lucius, why did you come? Why are you telling me all this? More importantly, what's in it for you?" I ask.

Lucius' lips curve into a crazed, deformed smile. "You know what I value most, Severus. You value the same thing too. My pride is lost, old friend." His smile softens slightly. "But the pride of the Malfoy's continues with my son, and his son – my little scorpion. I failed them once and I do not intend to fail them again… Also, it wouldn't hurt to have my freedom back. For good this time."

Lucius frees his hand from my hold and grips my shoulder tightly. "Stay safe, keep alive, brother."

I nod, avoiding his gaze. "As you should too," I reply.

Lucius disappears into the green flames. I stand in front my fireplace and watch the flames dance upon the coals. I try to ignore the uneasiness combing across my skin, but I can't. It is too difficult.

As usual, my past comes back to haunt me every day. Gnawing at any hopes I've ever had of a normal life. I feel contaminated, dirty, soiled.

A firm hand grips my arm.

"It's alright, Severus. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You have my word," Potter says, his arms extending protectively around me, engulfing me in a warm hug. The heat from his body feels almost unnatural against my cold, clammy skin shielded by my robes.

I nod.

Words fail me yet again.

"Stay close to me," he says.

And I do. How could I not?


	13. Lockham and Loaded

**Author's Note: **Hellooo, thank you for your patience and numerous apologies for taking so long with this chapter. Have been pretty busy. Here's a much longer chapter than usual. And as always, comments, reviews, etc. much appreciated. Thanks so much for your kind words and encouragement. You guys are hella awesome. ((:

* * *

><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 13<strong>

_**Lockham and Loaded**_

* * *

><p>Potter settles himself down next to me at the Head Table, Minerva's seat. Minerva graciously settles herself next to Potter, no questions asked. I have a strange feeling she suspects something, judging from the supposedly idle glances she has been giving Potter and I recently.<p>

"No word still?" I ask, stirring my coffee.

"Nothing. The only thing anyone has heard is that Kingsley's gone travelling. I don't get it. Travelling now? It's not really the best time is it?" Potter shakes his head as he reaches for a piece of toast.

"Hmm. And what of Rowan?" I ask, sipping my coffee and watching as the students in front of me stuff their mouths with food ungraciously while chatting.

"Zilch. Ron and Hermione have no clue about who this guy is. Arthur claims to have seen him once or twice at Ministry functions, but that's about it. The jerk's a bloody mystery," Potter says.

"He is an Unspeakable," I say.

Potter sighs. "We have to do something, Severus. I'm pulling all the resources I have. All I know is that somehow, he was appointed as Vice-Head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors last year. Around the same time he was appointed Head of the Unspeakables as well."

"Must have been a very good year for him," I drawl.

Potter sighs again and begins stuffing his face with toast.

"Chew your food," I say.

"I am chewing," Potter says with his mouth half open as he gobbles the toast in his mouth.

I give him a look of utmost disgust. He snickers.

"Anyway Severus, you know, with all this rubbish happening in the past week and all, you seem to have forgotten a certain deal you made with me," Potter says, crossing his legs lazily.

'What deal…" I eye him curiously.

"You know, you kinda owe me a date," Potter says, waving at a group of Ravenclaw students.

I nearly choke on my coffee.

"So you really did forget, huh?" Potter raises an eyebrow at me.

"Not so loud, you imbecile," I growl.

"No one can hear us, Severus. The students are making too much noise," Potter says, nonchalantly. "So how about it? Tonight? You've got me working my arse off doing all this research for you, you could at least buy me dinner… Headmaster."

"I never requested your help at all! In case you've forgotten, you volunteered!" I retort.

"Ah yeah, you're probably right there. But you did promise you, know?" Potter says, glancing at me, a strange look etched upon his face.

I sigh. "I would… love to, Potter. But as you can see, this isn't really the right time to be going around gallivanting in public. I am being monitored. Do you actually want to put yourself at risk being seen with me?"

"I don't care, Severus. I thought I already told you. I'll keep you safe," Potter says. For a moment he looks as if he is about to reach for my hand, but he stops himself and reassuringly pats my knee from under the table. I flinch slightly, and instantly look around to see if anyone has noticed. Apparently not.

"I promise it'll be somewhere no one can find us. No one we know, at least," Potter says.

I take a long moment to sip my coffee. "Where?" I ask.

"You'll find out tonight. Shit! Is it noon already? I'm supposed to be chaperoning the students today at Hogsmeade," Potter stuffs the last bit of toast in his mouth and then stands up abruptly, crumbs falling all over his robes.

I brush off some of the crumbs with my hand.

"Oh, oops, really messy. Ah okay, nevermind that. So umm, 7 alright? Meet me at my office?" Potter says, the sheepish smile back on his face.

I nod, supressing a smile of my own.

"Right… okay. Bye then!" he gives my shoulder a rather awkward squeeze. I watch as he rushes off clumsily down the aisles, shooting a few students friendly smiles as he goes along. He ruffles his hair nervously and then turns around to see if I'm still watching him. I immediately pretend to be desperately interested in my coffee instead. When I look up again, he gives me a wink and then makes his way out through the doors.

"Really starts to grow on you once you get to know him, doesn't he?" Minerva says, smiling at me. I look at her, feigning confusion.

"No idea what you mean," I say, hoping she doesn't notice the smile on my lips as I continue sipping my coffee.

* * *

><p>I take a longer time than usual getting ready. I find myself wondering if it really is the right decision wandering off like this. Right at a time when I'm very likely being monitored, and to just leave Fawkes unprotected…<p>

The bird is aimlessly pacing in his cage. It's nearly evening and the sun is starting to set. I'm wondering if I should put on a Muggle disguise, but I'm sure Potter would have told me if there was a need to. So instead, I dress as I always do. Simple black robes, new ones though.

At exactly 6.45pm, I leave for Potter's office, feeling a strange mix of worry, excitement and nervousness all at once.

I am very fond of the school at this hour. The warm glow from the fading sun drifts in and illuminates the entire place. It's not often I'm out of my office at this time. But at the times that I am, I always stop to appreciate it.

After the tiring walk up to Potter's office, I knock steadily on the door. After a few minutes, I receive no reply. Slightly worried, I knock harder.

"Potter?" I call.

I am about to reach for my wand when the door creaks open and a pair of sleepy green eyes greet me. "Severus? Oh, you're early," Potter yawns.

"On the contrary, Potter. It's exactly 7," I say, eyeing him curiously.

"Oh, crap. Alright, sorry, come in," he carelessly rubs his eyes and then opens the door a little wider to let me in.

His office is as I remember it from the last time I was here. Stacks of parchment piled up at corners of his desk, a few stray ones littered over the sofa. Obnoxiously large Gryffindor banner hanging from a wall. Framed pictures of family and friends on his desk. His broomstick propped up by his bed side.

Next to the fireplace I notice a painting of five teenagers. Potter, Weasley, Granger, the Ravenclaw girl and Longbottom. In the middle, painted in a gaudy pink shade, the word "FRIENDS" magically appears and disappears at short intervals.

"That's a gift from Luna," Potter laughs. "She has a much bigger version at home."

"Ah," I say, unsure if I should say what I really think of the painting or not. I turn to face Potter.

"Anyway, just give me a minute, yeah? I'll just go get changed," Potter ruffles his hair.

"If it is an inconvenience, we could always postpone…," I start but Potter approaches me and places a hand on my arm.

"No, no, it's fine. I've been looking forward to this. I just got back from Ginny's. She needed some help with some stuff around the house," he says.

I nod.

"So just err, make yourself at home! Be out in a jiffy," he says before kissing me on the cheek and then disappearing into the bathroom.

Strange boy.

A picture of Lily Evans on Potter's desk catches my eye. She's standing in a floral dress and waving at the camera, a large lake behind her. I caress her face with my finger. And she's smiling. I remember a time when that smile was only for me. From across the table at the library as we studied, or as we walked through the streets of Hogsmeade together. And then she gave that same smile to Potter senior and I remember how torn apart I was. The pain was uncontrollable, immense. I was so naïve. Because I couldn't have it all, I couldn't even settle for a friendship either. I see now how selfish I was.

And I miss her every day.

"Watcha looking at?" Potter questions as he emerges from the bathroom, clad in midnight blue robes, adjusting his glasses.

I place the photograph back on the table. "Nothing," I say.

"Okay, so all ready?" he grins.

"Indeed," I say. "So where is this mysterious place you have all planned for our evening? Do remember we should return back as soon as possible."

"Yes, yes, don't worry. Come this way," he says and urges me towards the fireplace.

"You look good by the way, new robes?" Potter asks.

Good? I incline my head slightly in acknowledgement and thanks.

He smiles and hands me some Floo powder. "Okay, so… just say, Middlesborough Inn, Lockham Village," he says.

"Lockham? I've never…" I begin, but before I know it, Potter utters the name and disappears in a sea of green flames.

For the love of…

"Middlesborough Inn, Lockham Village," I mutter as I step into the flames, the Floo powder falling onto the coals below me.

* * *

><p>When I emerge from the fireplace at Lockham Village, Potter is waiting at the side, grinning at me. I dust a bit of soot off my robes and walk up to him.<p>

I have never been to Lockham but I have heard of it several times before. It is a few miles from Hogsmeade, but much less populated. The light from the ceiling gives the inn a warm, orange tinge. The barkeep, a big scruffy fellow turns the pages of a newspaper slowly. He nods at us as Potter leads us both to a table near the entrance.

Apart from ourselves, there is hardly anyone else here. Two foreign looking women seem to be having a discussion at the other end of the inn, while a lazy grey dachshund is huddled up by the fireplace. The crackling from the fireplace adds to an admittedly calm atmosphere.

"It feels as if time has just slowed down," I say as I lean back into my chair.

Potter smiles. "Exactly. That's why I love this place. Used to come here every weekend after I got out of Hogwarts. Just needed a place to think, you know. Old Jeff there doesn't get that much visitors. No one comes to Lockham much anyway."

"I see," I say, still assessing my surroundings.

Potter places his hand on mine. "No need to worry, Sev. No one can find us here."

"Never assume anything, Potter," I say, staring at our hands on the table.

Potter sighs dramatically. "Alright, alright, let's get something to eat. I'm starved! Fish and chips?"

I nod. "Let me guess, with lots of vinegar right?" Potter asks.

I raise an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that, I've watched you enough during meal times to know," Potter grins, leaving me wondering why he's been taking note of my eating habits.

Potter returns shortly and the evening progresses much better than expected. We talk about various things, some important, some not so, but I find myself enjoying Potter's company. Whenever one of us brings up matters related to the war, Potter grips my hand reassuringly. At first I find this gesture somewhat condescending, but I begin to warm up to it and find myself gripping his hand whenever that sad looks washes upon his face, however briefly.

He asks me about my youth which I refuse to talk about. I talk about my friendship with Minerva, the old harpy. And I tell him about my potions research. I doubt he understands much, but he at least pretends to. He speaks a lot about his children and how Lily has been asking for me continuously over the past week. Apparently she attempted to "brew" a potion today which resulted in half the kitchen catching fire. Potter assures me that no harm has come to the little brat.

After dinner, we each have several glasses of Ogden's Finest and I feel so relaxed it's almost ridiculous.

Potter suddenly stands up and says, "Come on, there's something you've gotta see."

"What? I'm still enjoying my drink, Potter," I say.

He holds out his hand, "Bring it along, you won't regret it, promise."

Perhaps the Ogden's is starting to get to me, because I take his hand and allow him to lead me to the back of the inn, just past a row of rooms, and out the back door. When we emerge, a drift of sea water drifts through my nose.

"A beach? This is what you wanted me to see?" I raise an eyebrow, sipping my drink.

"Well, no, I mean yes. Come on, let's go for a walk," Potter mumbles excitedly.

"Dinner and a stroll along the beach? Potter, you tease," I drawl.

"Funny. Come along, Sev!" Potter nudges me. I sigh.

"Fine," I mumble. Potter reaches for my hand and pulls me along. It is a bit of a feat balancing my glass in one hand, with my boots squishing unevenly against the sand. The cool air bounces against my cheeks and I feel Potter lean in to me as we walk in silence for a while. It is unexpectedly comforting. Eventually we stop and Potter release my hand briefly and plants himself upon the sand. I settle down next to him.

The wind blows his hair away from his face and it strikes me at how alluring he truly is. There is a certain lack of polish about his features that I find very appealing, a rugged beauty that I can't quite pinpoint exactly. I find myself rather transfixed watching the moonlight dance upon his eyelashes.

"Kinda makes you wish we could just be here forever, huh?" he says, staring at the sea before him.

"For a while, perhaps. A long while, even. But not forever. Forever is too long," I say, watching him.

He laughs. "Too long? How can it possibly be too long?"

"Because then this will start to feel like a dream," I say, turning to watch the waves crash upon the shore. "And I don't think I would be able to take it."

I see him watch me from the corner of my eye.

"Severus," he says and I turn to face him.

"The last I checked, I'm completely real. And so is all of this. The sand, sea, everything. Do I look like a dream to you?" he questions, a serious look upon his face.

"Yes," I answer.

He pulls my face towards him and claims my lips. His warm mouth crushing gently against mine. After all that Ogden's, I wonder how it is he still manages to taste so completely sweet, so completely…

"Harry," I mumble.

He pulls me closer, his fingers entwined in the strands of my hair. I feel so amazingly lost and unhinged. His undoes the buttons to my collar and his lips continue pressing against my neck, his teeth softly claim pinches of my skin. I stretch out my arms behind me, stopping myself from falling backwards.

After a few moments, he stops and then cups my face with his hands.

"You really are a wonder, Severus Snape. The most beautiful mystery," he smiles and then kisses me again.

"I hope that's a compliment," I say.

Potter laughs. "Well, I was about to say you look extremely hot with your collar unbuttoned and the wind blowing your hair against you face like that, and then proceed to list all the naughty thoughts I'm having right now but…"

"Enough," I say and then pull him towards me and claim his lips once more.

When we break away, Potter says, "Come swim with me."

"What?"

"Come on, just this once, Sev. The water looks amazing," he says.

"Are you out of your mind? It's bound to be freezing!" I exclaim.

But Potter is already standing up and beginning to pull off his robes over the top of his head. He unbuttons his shirt below it and I can't help but look at the thin line of hair upon his chest. He pulls off his trousers, leaving him clad in only a pair of blue boxers. My breath catches in my mouth as he hesitates slightly, as if considering whether to remove his underwear or not. Unfortunately for me, he decides to leave them on.

"Come on, Severus. It'll be fun. Just this once. Something to remember," he grins, holding out his hand. I refuse to take it.

"Absolutely not. Completely foolish," I mumble, watching as he runs towards the sea, his feet splashing at the water.

"Oh, forgot to mention," he says, pausing briefly to turn around and look at me. "I'm a terrible swimmer. Nearly drowned a couple of times."

"What in the…"

Bloody Gryffindors.

In a moment, I'm back on my feet and tugging my robes off. By now, Potter is in the water watching me undress. I feel rather uneasy, so I toss the clothes next to Potter's and get into the water quickly.

"Aww shucks, undress slower next time," Potter grins and wades over to me.

"Sod off, Potter. There isn't going to be a next time," I grumble. The water isn't as cold as I thought it would be. In fact, it's actually quite warm. "And if you feign drowning even once… I swear to Merlin, Potter, I will kill you first."

"A right ray of sunshine you are," Potter mumbles as he splashes water in my direction.

I suddenly realise I've left my wand behind and cast a quick wandless Accio spell. My wand comes flying into my hand.

"Wow. I still can't get the hang of that wandless thing. You've got to show me how," Potter says.

"Wands only help channel the magic within. Any wizard is capable of doing magic without it. Basic spells can be done easily as long as you aren't too lazy to practise," I say.

"Sounds like something Albus would say," Potter smiles slightly.

"It's the truth."

"Easier said than done, anyway," Potter shrugs and then submerges himself under water, swimming in the vicinity.

Although it is quite tempting to do the same, I sit and keep watch in case of any intruders. Thankfully, no one else seems to be around. Suddenly, Potter emerges from the water and pulls me down with him. When we both emerge, Potter is laughing. I push him away and fold my arms across my chest.

"Okay, your turn, Severus, I'll sit here and keep watch. I'll hang on to your wand for you," he says, hand outstretched.

I hesitate. I've never let anyone so much as even touch my wand before. Unless of course you count Ollivanders.

"I'm not gonna run away with it. Go on. You trust me, right?" Potter raises an eyebrow. Grudgingly, I hand him my wand and he smiles at me. "Alright, go on, have a dip. The water's bloody amazing!"

I turn around and plunge into the water. It is amazing. The warm liquid dancing against my naked skin. Bits of seaweed gently entangling themselves between my toes. I push forward, come up for a breath a couple of times and then continue. I emerge to see Potter smiling at me sheepishly.

"Yes?" I question, combing the hair away from my face with my fingers.

"Nothing," Potter smiles as he hand me back my wand.

"Out with it," I command, as I climb out of the water and cast a quick drying up spell on myself.

"Feels a bit surreal to see Severus Snape swimming around so elegantly," Potter laughs.

"So this is all just a joke for you?" I snarl and then quicken my pace.

"No, no! That's not what I meant," Potter says, chasing after me. He grabs my arm. "I just mean… it's a bit difficult to believe, that a man who I've admired for so long would want to spend time with me. And you know, do stupid things with me… like taking a dip in the sea at this late an hour and all."

I eye him suspiciously. He pulls me closer to him and embraces me, hugging me tightly. His skin clinging to mine.

"I really do wish we could stay like this forever," he continues. "As cheesy as that sounds."

I smirk and then use the tip of my wand to tilt his face up towards me. "Indeed. And pray tell, what other _stupid things_ do you have planned for me?"

Potter shivers slightly. I am unsure if it is because he's cold and scarcely clothed or some other unfathomable reason.

"Well… err, we could, you know, head back…" he mumbles, adjusting his glasses.

"Yes, I do intend to," I say.

"Yeah, and then like, you know, maybe I could spend the night… at your office. With you…"

"You have your own room, don't you, Potter?"

"Well yeah, but I figured, maybe, you know…" Even in the dark, I can see the red colouring Potter's cheeks.

I sigh.

"I know. But not tonight. As much as you might not believe it, I actually have some morals intact. And… infringing on your… modesty, while you are quite intoxicated is not high on my list of priorities at the moment," I say.

"Why Severus, that's almost Gryffindor-ish of you," Potter kisses my lips.

"Oh no, trust me, Potter. My intentions are purely Slytherin. I'd rather you be quite sober and aware of _everything_ when I proceed to… infringe on your modesty," I smirk.

That familiar shiver is back again from Potter.

As he stands clinging to me, he looks up at me and then smiles.

And it is a smile so familiar, and yet so very different that my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest.

It's Lily's smile. And yet, it is completely Harry's.

And I welcome it wholeheartedly, claiming his lips once more.

Mine.


	14. Scars

**Author's Note: **Hello lovelies! Apologies once again for the absence. Anyway, here's what happens when Sev and Harry get back from Lockham. (: Not a very long chapter, and very 'dialogue driven', but it's been playing on my mind, and I just had to get this scene out before I head to bed tonight! I intend to get Chapter 15 out by this weekend if everything works out as planned. (: Again, thanks for all the awesome reviews/msgs!

Also, I'm going for the Harry Potter Exhibition this Sunday! It's finally come to my country and I'm bloody excited! Also, Gred and Forge (i.e. James and Oliver Phelps) were here last night for an interview but totally missed it because it was a private screening. Boo. ): Heh, just had to get that out. Erm, okay, so... enjoy!

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 14<strong>

**Scars**

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><p>It's strange watching someone else in my bed.<p>

The bed frame is slightly rusted, and much bigger than I actually require it to be. It is one of the few items I brought to Hogwarts from my old home. More so out of sentimental value, than anything else. The one time I invited Lily over when my parents were out, we sat on this same bed while playing gobstones. If it wasn't for this little detail, I probably would have gotten rid of it.

So many times I recall straggling back from meetings with the Dark Lord. My knees sore from kneeling for hours, my mind tired from occluding, my body as good as dead. So many times I have collapsed upon this bed, remembering that one time with Lily, drawing comfort from that. Closing my eyes, hoping death would claim me in my sleep. Death never did, and instead I spent endless nights writhing in my bed. Sometimes the occasional tear would fall.

Potter is now on my bed, dressed only in his boxers. "See, just sleep. That's all Sev, no infringing on anyone's modesty or anything like that," Potter mumbles with his eyes closed. Upon reaching Hogwarts from Lockham, he insisted on spending the night with me. "Come on, Sev. It's late."

Potter is clad only in his blue boxers, his robes a messy pile on the floor. "You could at least tidy up after yourself, Potter," I grumble as I cast his robes neatly away onto the side table. Potter lets out a quiet grunt of protest. I climb into bed slowly. My nightshirt is old and slightly tattered but I am too intoxicated and tired to bother about Potter noticing this. We lay in bed for a while, eyes closed, saying nothing.

Suddenly, Potter turns over and pulls himself closer to me, extending one arm across my torso.

"You smell good, Sev," he says.

"I highly doubt that. I am quite certain I smell of seawater and Ogden's," I say.

"No, you smell good. You smell like you."

"I am not sure what that is supposed to mean, Potter."

"When you brew, you almost always smell of cinnamon. And when you're not brewing, you just smell like… you," Potter mumbles lazily in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

"Go to sleep, Potter."

Potter chuckles and kisses my cheek. He raises himself slightly and says, "Sev, can I see you?"

"Can you what?"

"See you. I want to see you," he says.

"Your drunken chatter is annoying me. Do shut up."

"No… I just… Take off your nightshirt, Sev."

I shrug his arm off me, sitting up slightly. "No! Potter, I already told you… I will not… not when you're intoxicated…"

"No, no. Not that. I just mean… I want to see you… what you look like under all those robes. This night has been fantastic, Sev. I just want to remember it, remember you…" Potter mumbles, grabbing hold of my hand.

"You're being ridiculous, Potter. And overly sentimental… There truly is… nothing to see," I say, slightly taken aback.

"I just… please Sev?" Potter looks at me, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

I look down at his hand and notice the large scar on his left arm which he has painstakingly avoided talking about each time I ask him about it.

"Where did you get that scar, Potter?"

"It's not important. I've told you this before. And you're changing the topic, Severus," Potter's lips tighten slightly.

"Tell me where you got that scar from, Potter, and the nightshirt comes off," I smirk.

"Bloody Slytherin. But like I said, it's not important. Really."

"I was under the impression you trusted me," I say, freeing my hand from his and then turning over.

"What? I do, of course! Sev, don't…" Potter mumbles but I shut my eyes and ignore him. I know I'm pushing it but I continue anyway.

Potter lets out a loud sigh and then settles back on his side. For a few moments, I realised I've gone too far, and almost feel compelled to utter an apology.

"It's funny, huh, Sev? You think after the war, all the lives lost and everything, the bigotry is supposed to end?" Potter suddenly says.

I turn to face him. He's staring as the ceiling, his hands behind his head. I say nothing and he continues, "I was at Diagon Alley with Albus. Just outside Dervish and Banges, this man walks up to us, makes friendly conversation, that sorta thing. He asks Albus' name. Al tells him."

Potter pauses for a brief moment and I suddenly feel uneasy.

"Albus Severus, Al says. Severus? As in Severus Snape? You were named after Snape? The man asks. Al nods happily, and then the man's expression… well, then it changed…" Potter mumbles.

"Go on," I urge, ignoring my better instincts.

Potter sighs. "So well… he goes on some kind of stupid tirade about you… and well… we got into a fight, I threw a punch, and the arsehole had a knife on him… had some sort of strange spell on it. The wound kept bleeding for weeks. So well, yeah, that's that."

"What did he say?" I ask.

"Rubbish, total rubbish, that's all," Potter says, the anger on his face is undeniable.

"What?" I press.

"That you're a traitor, a Death Eater and that Albus should be ashamed to have been well, named after you… whatever. Like I said, total rubbish," Potter mumbles softly, his hands clenched.

"I was a Death Eater, Potter. I don't live in denial," I say. I suppose I should be upset, but I've had insults thrown at me so many times in my life, all I feel is a dull numbness throbbing within my skull.

"Yeah, but you're not anymore! We all make mistakes, you're a hero, Sev! It just… it just pains me to know that people don't see it. Things aren't always black and white. People like that man… that's how wars start, Severus," Potter says.

"Still, it was foolish of you to act that way. In front of your son nonetheless," I say.

"I'm not proud of it, Severus. But the arsehole deserved it. Just so you know, I gave Albus a long lecture afterwards about how violence is not the answer, etc. etc. I also apologised, mind you. It's not every day I lose my temper like that," Potter says.

"How did you get the bleeding to stop?" I ask.

"Hermione," Potter grins. "Brewed a bloody amazing potion."

"Ah."

"Yeah. So… that's the story behind the scar," Potter says.

I remain silent for a few moments, my head pounding. "I am not a hero, Potter. It's best you remember that."

"You are…" Potter starts but I raise a hand at him as I begin to sit up.

"I am not. I just did what I had to do."

"But you are! You…"

"NO! I AM NO HERO, POTTER!" I shout, startling him. "You wanted to _see_ me? Here! Let me show you who Severus Snape really is!"

I'm laughing and I'm not even sure why.

I pull off my nightshirt and the cool air hits my chest. It is almost painful.

"See this scar?" I point at a large one above my chest. "Sliced open by a Muggle who was trying to defend himself against a Death Eater attack. Let's just say I put him out of his misery quickly enough."

Potter's expression is unreadable as he watches me.

"Oh, and how about this one?" I point to a small black patch on the left of my torso where the flesh has sunken in slightly. "From a Muggle teenager. Can't have been older than 18. We tortured him for sport, Potter. Burnt me with his lighter as I was trying to restrain him."

Potter's lips are trembling.

I breathe deeply, trying to regain my composure. "So now you know. Your hero," I shake my head in disbelief. "Get out, Potter," I say.

Potter stares at me. Those green eyes burning through my skin.

"No," he says.

"What?"

"What about this one, Severus? Tell me about this one," he points at the scar on my neck where Nagini's poison bite struck me on that fateful night.

"Don't be daft," I say.

"This one here was what you got after you spent years risking your life to save everyone. This one here was all the thanks you got after years of sacrificing everything," Potter says fiercely.

"It changes nothing."

"It changes everything. We all make mistakes, Severus. I'm not saying what you did was right. I'm not saying I'm going to turn a blind eye and pretend you've been perfect all your life. But… what I do believe Severus, is that you are a good man. And a good man tries to right the wrong. And that's what you did," Potter says.

The determination on his face disarms me and I sigh, dragging a hand across my face.

"Why do you keep those scars, Severus?"

"What?"

"They're Muggle inflicted wounds. A simple potion, a spell perhaps could wipe them clear off. So why do you keep them?" Potter asks again, it's clear he knows the answer already.

"So I don't forget them," I say, looking at him, trembling slightly. I can't stop.

"Every one of them. I see their faces all the time. I never… wanted to. The Dark Lord forced it upon me. I was young, stupid. I was a coward." I refuse to look at him.

"You're not anymore," Potter says and then pulls me close to him, his strong arms wrapping around me. He kisses me on my cheek.

"You're the bravest man I've ever known," he says and then pulls me closer. We lay entwined together for a while, saying nothing, doing nothing. All I feel are the tiny hairs on Potter's legs rubbing against mine, and the warmth from his body engulfing me soothingly.

"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve… you," the words slide out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"I don't deserve you either," Potter whispers. "You are amazing, Severus Snape. If you could see yourself as I do, you'd understand. Now sleep, Sev."

Potter places soft kisses on my neck until I drift off to sleep.

In my dreams, I see only Harry. He tells me that everything will be okay.

And I believe him.


	15. The Remembrance Ceremony: Part 1

**Author's Note: **And here's the next update for the weekend! Here's Part 1 of The Remembrance Ceremony. Part 2 will probably be out next weekend, so stay tuned! (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape - Chapter 15<strong>

_**The Remembrance Ceremony: Part 1**_

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><p>I pace the Great Hall and assess the damage.<p>

Showy, very showy.

Every single nook and cranny has been touched up. The benches and tables have been cleared away, and replaced with circular tables, elegantly covered with black tablecloths with silver linings, and plush chairs. Banners stream down from the bewitched night sky above, bearing the words – '_Remember_.' The four house banners are displayed at the side of the Hall. A space in the middle of the hall has been cleared for presumably after-dinner dancing.

At the front of the Hall, just behind the Head Table, a string of large golden words appear and reappear every few moments:

_Remember those who were lost._

_Remember the brave and strong._

_Remember when hope left, but faith returned._

_Remember that he fell_

_because we stood united._

_All evil shall perish and never return forevermore, _

_Remember._

How very touching.

Well, it would be if there wasn't a bloody underlying message in that crafty little verse. _All evil shall perish _indeed. '_Shall' _implying hasn't been done. Will be done. It wouldn't surprise me if Rowan had written the bloody thing himself.

For the past week, a group of Ministry lackeys have been in and out of Hogwarts, decorating the grounds. Other than the Great Hall, where the main ceremony will take place, the Quidditch pitch has been affected too. There, thousands of large empty black frames have been suspended in the air, an open invitation for families to add in photos of the loved ones they have lost in both wars. The ground is littered with candles and flowers.

Just yesterday, a couple of Ministry clowns had attempted to shift Albus' portrait from my office down to the pitch, no doubt thinking it would make a great centrepiece. The portrait wouldn't budge of course and I had to supress a wry smirk as Albus sipped his afternoon tea and said, "Not going to work, my boys. Please refrain from shaking my portrait. Or is it your intention to give an old, dead wizard a headache?"

Most of the students have returned to their homes for the holidays, and the few who have stayed have been told to keep clear of the Great Hall. They have however, been invited to pay their respects at the pitch. In a few minutes, the guests should be arriving at the Hogwarts gates. I have sent several owls to Shacklebolt reminding him of the upmost importance of keeping Hogwarts as safe as possible. He has been steadily ignoring me and no one really seems to know exactly where he is. This fact greatly worries me. Furthermore, I have received no news regarding my supposed "removal" as Headmaster of Hogwarts. My contacts at the Hogwarts Board of Governors have not mentioned it at all and I am finding it increasingly difficult to stop myself from simply asking them about it. However, for Lucius' sake, I do not cave.

As such, I have relieved my frustrations by barking at those ridiculous Ministry officials all week. Just so they know who's in charge of things around here. At first I let them carry out their duties, but when one of them attempted to decorate my chair at the Head Table with pink roses I knew it was time I put my foot down.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a loud shriek. Before I can even turn around to figure out the source of the noise, my right leg is accosted by a flurry of green.

"Sevvie!"

"And good evening to you too, Ms. Potter," I say, bending down to free my leg from Lily Potter's tiny hands.

"You said you would come visit but you never did! Mum said I should clean up my room in case you did, so I did but you didn't come, so why did I clean my room!" Lily grumbles out loud, raising her arms in frustration.

"My apologies, Ms. Potter. I've been ridiculously busy this whole week. I really did want to come," I say slowly, and then lift her up onto the top of a nearby table.

"Oh. Well, I guess that's okay then. But I missed you," Lily mumbles sadly, swinging her legs.

"Yes, well, my office has been extremely empty without you too. And the bumbling old fool has been continuously asking for you," I say.

She snickers and then lets out a small smile. "Is that Severus talk for 'I miss you too'?"

I incline my head slightly in acknowledgement. She beams.

"Aww, and I'm gonna tell Professor Dumbledore you called him a bumble fool!"

"That's bumbling old fool, Ms. Potter. If you plan to convey my insults, you best do it accurately."

She snickers further and then pulls me down towards the chair beside her. I oblige.

"So do you like my dress?" she asks. She's dressed in a green dress, made with some sort of shiny material. I never was one for fashion, but she does look extremely radiant.

"I do. Very elegant, indeed," I say.

"James says I look like a Christmas tree," she mumbles, biting her lip.

"Your brother is either very blind or very daft, Ms. Potter. I suspect it's the latter. And even if he was right, you'd be the most enchanting Christmas tree I've ever set my eyes upon," I smirk.

"Funny, Sev," Lily mumbles.

"It'd do you some good to ignore the shallow opinions of your brother, Ms. Potter. You look every bit like a true Slytherin princess this evening."

"Really? I chose this colour, you know! Dad wanted me to wear this pink dress, but I said, no way! And I know you like green, so I figured if I wore green today, you'd stop ignoring me," she continues, looking at the floor below her.

The comment hits me like a slap on the face. I tilt her head up gently towards me with two fingers and say, "I would never ignore you, Ms. Potter. You must remember that."

"Oh," she says softly.

"Indeed. Now promise me you'll remember that."

"I promise!" she beams at me and then launches herself at me in a hug.

"So that's where you ran off to!" a voice behind me calls.

I free myself from Lily's embrace and allow her to settle on my lap.

"Potter, you should keep better watch of your children," I say.

Potter walks towards us, grinning widely. He's in simple, black dress robes, looking very proper, apart from his messy mop of hair.

"Severus. I see she's finally found you. She's been driving us all mad with her 'Severus' this, 'Severus' that banter the entire day," Potter smiles, prodding Lily's cheek with his finger. Lily smiles sheepishly, ignoring him and begins to coil strands of my hair around her finger.

"Like I said, the girl has good taste," I smirk. Both Potters roll their eyes at me.

"What are you doing here anyway? Stopped chasing around those Ministry officials already?" Potter grins.

"I was just ensuring that the Great Hall hadn't experienced too much damage from their onslaught. Mind you, at least I care about this school. Those fools know close to nothing about sending out the right impression to our guests. For the love of Merlin, pink roses!" I shake my head.

Potter laughs and then lifts Lily up from my lap and sets her down upon the floor, the girl grumbling in protest.

"Come on you, Mum's waiting for you outside," Potter says.

"But I haven't finished talking to Sev yet!" she grumbles.

"You can talk to him later, and Uncle Ron's got you a present from Egypt."

"A present? What is it?" her eyes narrow in curiousity.

"Dunno. But it's pretty big. Has a big bow on it and everything," Potter shrugs nonchalantly.

Lily's eyes grow wide with delight and she mumbles a quick, "Okay, gotta go, bye Sev!" before kissing me on the cheek and rushing out of the hall.

Potter laughs and then sits down next to me. "So… what's the plan of action for tonight, huh?"

"Pardon?"

"As in, what do you plan to do? Sit down for dinner, grumble a bit about how slow things are moving, skulk around for a few minutes and then retire to your office?" he grins.

"You know me so well, Potter," I drawl sarcastically.

He laughs, "Well, I pulled some strings with the officials outside, and they've agreed to let you sit with us."

"Us? As in…?"

"My family, the Weasley's as well," Potter says and then continues as soon as he notices the look of utmost horror etched upon my face. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll keep you more entertained than Minerva or Horace."

"Why, and I was so looking forward to watching Horace stuff his face with pineapples."

Potter chuckles. "Missed you, you know. Kinda wish we were back in Lockham again." He grips my knee with his hand.

"Indeed. All prepared for your speech? The world waits with bated breath for the saviour of the wizarding world to address them," I smirk.

Potter rolls his eyes. "Funny. And no, not at all. Haven't the faintest clue what I'm going to say later. Tried to write something out last night, but couldn't think of anything. Just have to wing it, I suppose," he mumbles.

"Anyway, I gotta go, Neville, Luna and some of the rest will be arriving soon. Do you want to join us?" he asks.

"As much as I'd love to be reacquainted with my ex-students, who no doubt will be thrilled to see me, I do have some work to do," I say. Potter chuckles and then takes a quick look around before giving me a quick kiss on my lips.

"Right. See you in a bit! You look good, by the way," Potter winks at me and then leaves the Great Hall.

I sigh. No doubt Potter is going to be preoccupied with the bundle of misfits he calls his friends the entire night. And as usual, I'll be forced to make pleasantries with people who don't give a damn about me. Perhaps Shacklebolt will show? Or the Malfoy's? Or better still, perhaps I'll get the chance to get properly acquainted with bloody Gregory Rowan.

I'm starting to wish I was back in Lockham with Potter. Since that night, we haven't had the chance to be alone together much. Occasionally, he comes over after classes for a chat and we play a few rounds of wizard's chess (I win, of course). But we've both been knee-deep in work. I can't wait for this bloody night to be over.

I shake my head.

It's going to be a long night.

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><p>It's nearly 8 p.m., and the guests are settling down. As predicted, I've made idle chatter with various Ministry officials, all supposedly grateful about my decision to host the ceremony at Hogwarts. Arthur and Molly genuinely seemed happy to see me. Longbottom actually seems different, more confident somehow. Yet, my ability to still make him flinch each time I glare at him greatly amuses me.<p>

Amidst the friendly chatter, and the hugs and kisses, there is an air of solemnity which everyone maintains. Even the children who are present seem to be on their best behaviour, which is quite an astounding achievement.

"Hey! There you are, come on, let's go get a seat," Potter emerges from behind me. We take our places at a large table just in front of the raised platform where the Head Table is at. Arthur, Molly, the Weasley twin and his wife, Lupin's son, and several other family members are at the table beside us. I spot Trelawney and her obnoxiously large glasses at the far right of the hall and Minerva beside her. I note the look of annoyance upon Minerva's face who's obviously not pleased with the seating arrangements. She notices me and gives me a pained expression. I smirk in acknowledgement. Several other faculty members are seated with them including Horace, Pomona and Rolanda. Horace looks strangely unsettled tonight, but I suppose it's because it's past his usual dinner time.

Suddenly, a small mop of black hair settles beside me. "Hi Headmaster," Albus Severus says as he smiles shyly at me.

Before I can reply, Lily Potter shrieks from behind me, tugging at her brother's robes. "Al! I said I was going to sit there! Gerroff!"

"Mum said I could, you already see him more than I do!" Albus retorts.

In a flash, Potter has gotten out of his chair and is now standing in between the two children. "Oi, you two, quieten down. What's the problem?"

"Al stole my seat! I wanted to sit next to Sev," Lily mumbles, pulling on the hem of her dress.

"But Dad, it's not fair. I haven't even had a chance to talk to him," Albus protests.

"Okay, Lily, you can take my seat as long as you promise to behave yourselves," Potter says firmly and both children nod in agreement. I must say, I am quite impressed.

Potter gives me a look and silently mouths an apology. I nod.

"Hi Sev! I can sit next to you!" Lily says excitedly as she climbs onto the chair to my left.

"So it would seem," I say. "And good evening, Mr. Potter," I extend a hand to Albus who is staring down at the table cloth. He accepts it and beams up at me.

"My brother's coming to Hogwarts next year," Albus says.

I nod.

"He's really excited. It'll be my turn after that, I suppose. Bit nervous, actually," he mumbles.

"Why so?" I ask.

"Just… I don't know. Not sure what to expect. Dad says it'll be amazing, but he says that because he's my dad, you know?" he explains quietly enough so Potter doesn't hear him.

"Though it pains me to admit it, I'm certain your father's right. You have nothing to be afraid of, as long as you work hard and be on your best behaviour," I eye him curiously.

He nods. "I've actually been reading Dad's old potions textbook."

"Oh?"

"It's really interesting. I'm not allowed to practise though. Not till next year at least. Dad says you're really good at potions."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. I'm starting to like this child.

"Yeah. He goes on and on about you for ages whenever he's at home. I don't know… I was wondering if you could… I don't know, maybe teach me sometime?" he mumbles to the napkin in front of him.

"I suppose I could. But I must warn you, Mr. Potter, I teach only the most committed students. So you'll have to come prepared before every lesson. Do the necessary readings and such," I say.

"Really? Brilliant!" he beams, finally looking up at me. "I'll do all the readings you ask me to, you'll see!"

I give him a small smile. If only Potter was this enthusiastic as a child.

"Al, are you bothering Professor Snape already?" Ginny Potter, I mean, Ginny Weasley walks up to us, hand in hand with Dean Thomas. I presume this is the 'future husband' Potter has told me about.

Albus' gaze falls back onto the table cloth. "It's fine, Ms. Weasley. We were just having an engaging discussion about potions," I say.

Albus smiles up at me, biting his lower lip.

"Professor, it's good to see you again," Thomas extends his hand and I accept it. Ms. Weasley does the same too. Potter appears to be ignoring this exchange of greetings, or is at least pretending to.

"So then I said, if you're not up to anything, then why the ruddy hell do you stink of dungbombs! I swear, that man is nothing but…" Ronald Weasley stops in mid-sentence as he notices me at the table.

"Oh, umm, hullo," he says to me. Beside him, Hermione Granger tuts loudly at him. "Manners, Ronald," she whispers, rather unsuccessfully. She extends her hand, "Really good to see you, Professor. It's been too long."

"And you, Ms. Granger," I nod. "Mr. Weasley."

Weasley's mouth hangs open slightly and then nods at me before settling down next to his wife.

There are about a thousand sarcastic comments playing upon my lips, but I decide to withhold them, seeing as I'm going to be stuck with said company for the rest of the night.

Weasley and Granger's children seat themselves next to their parents. James Potter follows closely behind, chatting animatedly with the girl.

"James fancies Rose," Lily giggles beside me.

"Ah," I say. It seems to be a never ending cycle, I see.

"Severus!" Potter calls, leaning over Lily's chair. "That's Rowan, isn't it? I recognise him from the photo Ron showed me."

I turn and look at the man Potter is indicating.

Gregory Rowan is a skinny, nimble man. Short, with auburn hair. The kind of man who could fade in with any crowd. There's nothing curious about him, nothing which would make you look twice. He's cloaked in simple black robes, which barely pass for dress robes. In his right hand, he carries a cane, resembling Lucius', except his is made out of wood. No one else seems to notice him, other than Potter and myself. For a moment, I assume Potter has made a mistake. However, I notice the two Ministry officials escorting him and realise Potter must be right.

Upon reaching the front, Rowan stops briefly, inclines his head as if he's just realised something and then looks right at me. The coldest pair of blue eyes I have ever seen bore right through me. Suddenly, my head begins to hurt, and my eyes narrow as I am struck by a surge of intense pain which I haven't felt in a long while. A _very_ long while. I feel the barriers of protection in my mind begin to break.

The bastard is a bloody Legilimens.

I refuse to show weakness and force any signs of pain away from my face. I strengthen the barriers in my mind once more. The prodding pain slowly fades, and Gregory Rowan breaks into a smile so sickeningly sweet, it reminiscent of Umbridge.

He walks over to me. "Good evening, Severus Snape. I've waited so long to meet you."

I rise slowly from my seat. "Good evening, Mr. Rowan. Likewise," I say.

"Well, we can chat more later. I do believe it's time to begin," Rowan's smile grows impossibly wider.

"Certainly, don't let me keep you," I force a smile.

As Rowan begins to leave, I say, "Oh, and Mr. Rowan…"

"Yes?"

"One does not simply just saunter into another's home. It's always polite to ask for permission first. It's quite remarkable how some people so easily forget basic manners."


	16. The Remembrance Ceremony: Part 2

**Author's Note: **And now, the continuation! There should be one more chapter coming out this weekend, by the way. Enjoy! And thanks for all your lovely comments! (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 16<strong>

_**The Remembrance Ceremony: Part 2**_

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><p>"One does not simply just saunter into another's home. It's always polite to ask for permission first. It's quite remarkable how some people so easily forget basic manners."<p>

Rowan's steely gaze locks on mine. He pauses for a few moments and then breaks into a wide smile.

"Why, Headmaster, I have no idea what you mean. I do suggest you lay off the Ogden's until after dinner," he says, patting my arm.

I jerk my arm away from his grasp, startling him slightly.

_Just one curse._ One_ little_ curse, and he'll be begging for mercy.

My right hand reaches into my pocket for my wand, but is stilled by the firm grip of another.

"Don't," Potter whispers, staring up at me from his chair.

Rowan's eyebrows arch as he looks to Potter's hand on mine. "Be seeing you then," he smiles as he walks off to his table.

My face is hot as my hand tightens around my wand. I'm gripping it so tight, I am quite certain it will break.

"Don't," Potter repeats, standing up beside me. "He's trying to rile you up on purpose."

"Let go of me," is all I can manage. Potter does let go but remains next to me, watching Rowan intently.

"What was he on about? And what was with that thing you said? Sauntering into someone's home? I don't get it," Potter looks up at me.

"Legilimency. The fool thought he could pry into my mind," I say.

"What? What's he playing at?" Potter demands angrily.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I mumble.

"Forget it, come on, let's get ready for dinner. We'll deal with him later," Potter says again, gripping my hand reassuringly one last time.

I take my place again at the table. No one seems to have noticed the little meet-and-greet with Rowan. But for some reason, Weasley and Granger are watching me intently. I stare at them and they quickly pretend to be engrossed in a conversation. I am too angry to bother about this so I settle for watching Rowan, who's been seated at a table on the far right of the Hall with several other Ministry goons who seem almost elated that they're within a close proximity of him.

Bastards. All of them.

* * *

><p>Dinner progresses as expected. Some Ministry lackey makes a speech about how we should all remember those who've gone, how we were victorious in the face of evil, blah blah blah. He thanks the organising committee from the Ministry for their help, and makes a special mention of the Head of said committee, Gregory Rowan (what a surprise), who is greeted with friendly applause as he waves at the crowd with that stupid smile plastered across his face.<p>

_Crucio._

Such a simple spell, so very easy. But you are a changed man aren't you, Severus? Isn't that what Potter believes? My finger taps against the handle of my wand.

I sigh. If it wasn't for Lily Potter distracting me with aimless chatter, I'd be on Rowan in a flash.

The Ministry lackey thanks yours truly, and the Hogwarts staff as well for our "cooperation". He almost swallows this word as he looks at me. I smirk in response.

"And now, we'd like to invite a truly remarkable individual on stage to share a few words with us - The Boy Who Lived, and Lived Again, Mr. Harry Potter!"

Potter emerges ungracefully from his seat and awkwardly makes his way to the stage. The Hall is filled with applause.

"_Sonorous_," Potter mumbles as he holds his wand to his throat.

"Umm, hello everyone," Potter smiles sheepishly.

"Hiya Uncle Harry!" Hugo Weasley shouts from his seat. The crowd laughs while Granger and Weasley attempt to quieten the brat down.

I resist the temptation to roll my eyes, and watch Potter instead. He laughs and waves at Hugo before continuing.

"So, err, I was asked to give a speech today and I didn't really come prepared. Some things never change, huh, Professor?" Potter grins at Minerva who smiles back heartily while shaking her head.

"Anyway, well… I just wanted to say… thank you everyone for coming tonight, it's really brilliant to see everyone back here…," Potter ruffles his hair.

I sigh. Get on with it, Potter.

"…and well, I just want to say that well… I think about the war every day. And of everyone that it stole from us," he holds a hand against this heart, suddenly looking much more confident than he did a few seconds back.

"It's easy to remember the hurt, and the pain. It's easy to remember the fear that we lived with. What's most important though, is to remember the hope, courage and love that got us through the darkest days of our lives. And we should hold on to that," Potter pauses for a moment and takes a quick glance at me. I raise an eyebrow, questioningly.

"...And, I also want to talk about… judging others. You see, when Voldemort…"

At the mention of the Dark Lord's name, as if on cue, several people begin to cough and/or gasp.

I sigh. The boy never learns.

These distractions fail to deter Potter, however, and he continues.

"… was a student at Hogwarts, almost everyone was taken in by his charm, his intelligence, his skill. Almost no one thought him capable of the horrors he performed later on. He deceived, and tricked others all his life. So you see… it's easy to judge someone by what they look like, how they behave, what others say about them. But unless you truly know them, you'll never understand them.

"And this is what I'd like to ask of you all tonight. Don't judge a book by its cover. Don't take everything at face value. I'm not saying you should go around doubting everyone, but just be wary. Read between the lines.

"And similarly too, there are some truly… remarkable people out there, who people assume to be… for a lack of a better word… bad. But I urge you, get to know them before you judge them. Distrust and disunity tore us apart before, and it might do the same again if we aren't careful.

"So yes, remember hope, courage, and love. It's gotten us all through so much, and it will continue to get us through the rest of our lives. Thank you," Potter finishes. The crowd breaks into applause as Potter returns to the table. I look at Rowan and notice that although he's clapping politely, his lips are pursed, as if deep in thought.

"How'd I do?" Potter grins as he leans over Lily's chair towards me.

"Acceptable," I say, avoiding eye contact.

"That's like a standing ovation coming from you!" Potter laughs but looks as pleased as punch.

It was a good speech, though probably not as effective as Potter might hope it to be. His attempt to 'rally the masses', so to say, was quite clever. However, I am quite aware it's not going to do much good. People will always judge.

A Death Eater, is a Death Eater, is a Death Eater.

And a figure with power, will always have followers, no matter how stupid or inconsistent his policies. Fudge, the Dark Lord, the list could go on forever.

Still, Potter was more eloquent than I had initially anticipated.

Dinner is eventually served ("Finally!" exclaims Ronald Weasley), and we are treated to a spread of food from every cuisine imaginable. Roast beef, pasta, several types of curries, various pies, ice creams and other such items. I have no mood to eat so I force down a few mouthfuls of curry and sip pumpkin juice out of my goblet. All the while, I never let Rowan out of my sight.

Soon, everyone is more or less done with dinner, and Potter too has left the table to chat with his friends. I remain at the table with Lily, having been forced to keep her company while she finishes her third helping of ice-cream. Music softly plays in the background, and some couples have taken to the makeshift dance area.

"What d'ya keep looking at, Sev?" Lily asks, as she gobbles down her ice-cream, a splotch apparent on her chin.

"Nothing of interest," I say, handing her my handkerchief.

She accepts it and wipes her mouth.

"I don't like him either," she says. Oh, very observant indeed.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because… he smells funny."

I almost spit out my pumpkin juice.

"And what may I ask does he smell of?" I struggle to regain my composure.

"Like dragon poop," she continues.

"Have you actually come across dragon… droppings before?"

"Well, no. But I imagine that's how it'd smell like him if I ever did get the chance to smell it," she says, still munching on her ice-cream.

I cannot help myself, I let out a small chuckle.

"Made you laugh!" Lily chuckles too. "Okay, I'm bored. Let's go do something fun!"

I feel compelled to sit and watch Rowan for the rest of the evening, but my legs are starting to cramp up. I suppose I could get Potter to keep a watch while I go for a walk.

"Alright. But first, go tell your father to keep a watch on that funny-smelling man over there and meet me at the entrance. Go on," I urge. Lily nods and then scurries along towards Potter who's talking to the Weasley boy who Greyback left his mark on.

As I walk past several tables, I'm struck by a sudden sense of worry. Where are the Malfoy's? Or Lucius at least? He did mention he'd be at the Remembrance Ceremony. I dismiss the thought. He probably managed to sneak his way out of having to come. Merlin knows I'd probably do the same if I had a choice too.

I turn around just in time to see Potter wave at me and give me a thumbs-up. He whispers something to Lily and then grins to himself. Lily runs towards me.

"Daddy wants me to tell you that he wants you to come back quickly."

I raise an eyebrow at Potter, who's still staring at me from across the Hall. "And why is that?"

"He says he can't wait to umm... illfridge… infridge… no wait, he says… he can't wait to infringe your modesty or something like that," Lily says with a straight face.

"WHAT?" the heat is beginning to rise to my face.

"What does that mean?" Lily furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

I look over at Potter and realise he's now laughing uncontrollably into his hand.

Obnoxious bloody brat.

I am certain now the heat has spread to my ears. I grab hold of Lily's hand and pull her out of the Hall with me.

* * *

><p>I successfully manage to evade Lily Potter's onslaught of questions regarding Potter's ridiculous statement. I swear that boy makes it his personal mission to annoy me.<p>

The air is much cooler outside, and the atmosphere much more serene and welcoming. We pass by several of my ex-students, very few Slytherins though. Some look as if they intend to engage me in a conversation, but the look on my face sends out a clear signal - bugger off.

Eventually, we reach the Quidditch Pitch which is completely empty, apart from the floating frames and the vines of flowers hanging from the skies. Lily's eyes grow wide in amazement as she watches the frames float in mid-air. I notice that at least half of them have been filled with pictures. The Weasley's have obviously already been here. The Weasley twin's photograph hangs only a few inches above us.

"Hey Sev, is that Uncle George's brother?" Lily asks softly.

I nod.

"And those are Teddy's parents right?" Lily indicates a frame above Fred Weasley's. The frame holds a picture of Lupin and his wife. I nod again. We spend several minutes looking at the frames. Each time I see a picture of someone I used to know, my breath catches in my throat a little. The dull glow from the candles below illuminates the pictures above.

I am looking for one face in particular but I do not see it. Potter hasn't been here yet.

I raise my wand into the air and say, "_Accio_ photograph." while focusing hard on a photograph I've kept in the top drawer of my office. It takes about a minute before the photograph comes zooming into my other hand. I summon an empty frame down towards us. The frame is enormous, it's at least twice Lily's height.

I hand over the photograph to Lily.

"Go ahead," I urge her. She looks up at me and then back to the photograph in her hands.

"Grandma?" she asks.

"Yes," I say, barely a whisper.

Lily holds the photograph out towards the frame in front of her and it magically enlarges so that it fits the frame perfectly. I wave my wand and the frame is back up in the air, floating just a few feet above us. Lily Evans smiles down at us both.

"Daddy always says I look like her," Lily whispers, taking my hand in hers.

"You do," I say, giving her a small smile.

"I wish I knew her," Lily says sadly.

I'm not sure how to reply to this, so I settle on giving Lily's hand a small squeeze. Lily looks sadly at the ground below her.

"Sev?"

"Yes, Ms. Potter?" I ask, looking at her.

"You won't die will you?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Everyone dies eventually. So yes, one day, I suppose I will," I say.

"But I don't want you to leave me," Lily says, her eyes watery.

In hindsight, perhaps bringing her here was not the best idea.

"It's too early to worry about things like that now. I'll be with you for as long as I can. And when it is my time to go, I'll always be alive as long as you think of me," I say, wiping a falling tear from her face.

"Really?" she asks.

"Really," I say.

She smiles.

"Alright, shall we head back? I do believe there's still room for some ice-cream in my stomach," I smirk.

"Yes!" Lily replies.

Suddenly, a waft of icy cold breeze hits my face and I stumble back a step.

Something's wrong. Something isn't right at all.

"Sev?"

I must head back to the castle.

"Hmm? Sorry, just lost my balance that's…"

Before I can finish, I am hit by another, stronger gush of wind that knocks me flat on the ground. I hear Lily calling out my name but it seems so distant, so far away.

A searing pain hits my throat and my body begins shaking convulsively. I'm gasping for air. My lungs feel like they've been set on fire. The pain is unbearable. I see the panic on Lily's eyes, her face drifting further and further away from me.

"Harry," I force the words out of my mouth. "Get me… Harry."

My head feels like it's about to explode. Above, me, the frames loom menacingly. And for some reason, my eyes seem to focus on just one. One I hadn't noticed before.

In the frame, I see a young, naïve boy I used to know. A grotesque youth, face shielded by hair, forearm outstretched, the Dark Mark etched upon his skin.

In the frame, I see me.


	17. Lost and Found

**Author's Note: **Alritey, here's my final update for this weekend. Probably won't be able to update next week as I'm gonna be doing some travelling. But will definitely continue when I get back. Also, just realised has a new Image Manager function where I get to add a cover image for my stories! There are a ton of awesome images I'd like to use, but if you guys have any suggestions on something that would be suitable, do let me know via a PM or something! Or even better, if any of you can draw/use one of them fancy image programs, and feel particularly generous/awesome, would be hella amazing if you could help me come up with something for my cover design! I'd be eternally grateful! (seeing as I am hopeless at drawing/designing anything...) Many thanks lovelies! (:

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 17<strong>

_**Lost and Found**_

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><p><em><strong>February 1979<strong>_

"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix cries, holding out her wand. Her smile twisted beyond reason.

"Just hurry up and get it over with, Bella. I have an appointment in an hour," Lucius drawls, tapping his cane impatiently against the wooden floor.

"You're a bore, Lucius. Let her have her fun," Rodolphus remarks, gleefully watching his wife from the corner of the old house.

"CRUCIOOOOO!" Bella screams again, laughing maniacally. In front of her, the man screams hopelessly, his body contorted as he lies on the floor.

"Just finish him, will you?" Lucius drawls impatiently.

"Oh wait, look here," Dolohov saunters over to the table beside the man. He picks up an item and waves it in my direction. "I've seen this several times at Muggle houses. What's this called again, Severus?"

"It's a camera," I mumble, refusing to look up at him. "Takes pictures."

"Ah right, the pictures don't even move. Bloody useless. Hey, smile!" Dolohov calls to the man on the floor. He presses a few buttons and appears satisfied when a photograph slides out below. He tosses it to the man. The photograph hits him in the face and slides onto the floor.

"There you go, souvenir of this momentous occasion!" he laughs. "Hey, Severus, your father was a Muggle wasn't he?" Dolohov turns to me.

I refuse to answer. I'm too busy biting my tongue, the bile threatening to rise from my stomach.

"Leave him be, Antonin," Lucius says.

"Just getting to know young Severus, that's all," Dolohov grins. "Hardly have the time to talk to him after all, always busy brewing potions and other rubbish."

"He's brewing them upon orders of the Dark Lord. So unless you're implying he should defy the Dark Lord, I suggest… you leave him be," Lucius' says firmly, glaring at Dolohov.

"Simmer down, Lucius," Rodolphus says. "Come now, love," he says to Bellatrix.

"Pl…ease…," the man on the floor pleads.

"You dare address us, Muggle?" Bellatrix spits.

"I… I have… a fami..ly… My wife… My son… he's only three…" he mumbles, his face as pale as snow.

"Your wife is dead! Your son is dead! They're all dead! Stupid Muggle!" Bellatrix laughs then spits at his face.

I shuffle uneasily in my corner, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"No! Don't… lie…" he continues, his eyes bloodshot.

Dolohov laughs, "Ah, your wife was easy. Would've kept her alive a little longer… she was quite pretty for a Muggle and well… a man does get lonely you know. But then I thought… why dirty myself with Muggle filth?"

"You…" the man begins to push himself up on his elbows, an expression of utmost anger apparent on his face. Bellatrix pushes him down again, pressing her boot against his cheek.

Dolohov continues, "And your pathetic son? Set him on fire myself. Watched him burn. He begged me not to kill him. Screamed for you, you know? Too bad you never came…"

"No!" the man screams. "Kill me! Kill me then!"

"Not yet, I'm not done playing with you," Bellatrix laughs.

"Avada kedavra," Lucius says calmly, pointing his wand at the Muggle.

A bright flash of green streams from his wand and strikes the man between his eyes. His body stiffens and he lies spread-eagled upon the floor. I watch helplessly as life leaves him.

"I SAID, I WASN'T DONE!" Bellatrix storms up to Lucius, her face only inches from his.

"And I said I was going to be late," Lucius enunciates slowly.

"Leaving so soon, brother? Why, it's Severus' special day!" Rodolphus laughs, pulling his wife back towards him, restraining her as he tries to lunge towards Lucius.

My heart beats hard and fast beneath my chest. My fingers seem frozen in place as they grip my wand in my pocket.

"Exactly! It's not every day you make it into the Dark Lord's inner circle! This calls for a picture! Come, Severus," Dolohov calls, dragging me out from my corner.

"Show it proudly, now!" Dolohov laughs, pointing at my sleeve.

I hesitate and look at Lucius who's still glaring at Bellatrix.

Timidly, I pull up my sleeve. My forearm still burning from hours ago when the Dark Lord gave me the mark. I had wanted it for so long. The inner circle, the mark, companions, family. A true honour.

I suppose.

It was everything I wanted. But now I'm not so sure. Up till today, I've spent my time at home, brewing potions for the Dark Lord, occasionally attending meetings. It felt so good to just… belong. Such a privilege to be part of a monumental movement. To feel appreciated for my gifts, my abilities. The Dark Lord is the only one who sees how capable I truly am. He knows I'm special. Lily would never understand.

But… after today, how long will it be before my hand is forced? Before I make my first kill? And what will happen if… I don't?

"Atta boy," Rodolphus grins. Bellatrix is beside him, licking her lips as she watches me. Dolohov snaps a quick picture and throws it at me. I catch it and my fingers graze the warm plastic.

"There you go!" Dolohov laughs.

I take a quick glance at the picture in my hands and feel so much shame. I'm not even sure why.

"Come, Severus," Lucius says and then disapparates.

I close my eyes and vanish from that old wooden house too, allowing the photograph to tumble out of my grasp.

* * *

><p>"Severus?"<p>

I squint. Bright lights blind me from above. My body feels as if it's been trampled on by a stampede of centaurs. My fingers grip at the softness below me. A mattress. Cotton sheets. A smell. Sanitary.

I shift slightly, trying to sit up but strong hands urge me down again.

"No, not yet. You're still healing."

I force my eyes to focus. Bed frame above me. Empty chair to my left. And to my right –

"Potter?"

"Hey, you," he smiles, but the worried expression on his face betrays him.

"What… happened?" I ask, the dull throbbing in my head slowing my thoughts.

"You collapsed at the Pitch. Lily came and got me, and we brought you here. The Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey's getting you something now. You've been out for a couple of hours or so," he says, reaching for my hand.

"Lily…" I mumble.

"She's fine. Gave her a bit of a scare there. Scared all of us, actually. But she's okay now, she's with the kids. You just rest, I'm here for you."

"I'm fine," I say, attempting to push myself up. Potter sighs and then helps me up. He grabs a spare pillow and then props it up behind me.

"Sure you are," he shakes his head. "So umm, do you remember what happened exactly?"

"We were at the Pitch. And then… something struck me. Twice," I say, combing through my memories.

"A spell? Was anyone nearby?"

"No, it was just Lily and I. No one else."

"Could you tell what spell it was?"

I shake my head slowly. Potter furrows his brows, deep in thought.

"It wasn't Rowan. I was watching him the entire time after both of you left. He never left the Hall."

I bite my lips in frustration. The feeling I had at the Pitch was so foreign, so very strange. I can't think of anything that could explain it. And there was no one in sight. Unless I missed said spellcaster? Unlikely. It happened so fast. One moment I was talking and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, squirming, looking up at…

"There was one thing though," I say, talking faster now.

"What?"

"The photograph. In one of the frames, there was a photograph of me. In my youth."

"Hmm? But aren't those frames meant for well… those lost in the war?" Potter asks and then arches a brow in realisation. "Do you think it's a threat or something?"

I shrug. "I don't know how anyone could have gotten their hands on that photograph. It was taken a long time ago, in a house of a Muggle family," I say.

No one could have taken it. Random Muggles who chanced upon it probably wouldn't know who I was so it's extremely unlikely that they would have kept it. Bellatrix and Rodolphus are dead. Dolohov too. Who then? And more importantly, why come all the way back to Hogwarts just to put the stupid photograph in a frame?

My head is aching more than it should.

Potter squeezes my hand. "It's okay, we'll figure this out together. I'm just glad you're alright," he says.

I allow myself to enjoy the heat from Potter's hand for a moment. He hasn't changed out of his dress robes and feeling him near me is indescribably comforting.

"Thank you," I say, finally.

"For what?" Potter asks, gently grazing my forehead with his lips.

"Everything," I say, tightening my grip on his hand.

"Ah, no worries," he says. A lopsided smile plays upon his face.

I watch him for a few moments and realise there's something different about him. It's clear he's worried. But the sweat on his palms… and the awkward way he's clenching his jaw tells me something's not quite right. There's a look on his face I've not seen before.

Subtle, very subtle indeed.

It takes me a while, but I recognise it eventually.

Guilt.

"Is something the matter, Potter?"

"Umm, no. Nothing. You just rest, Sev," he says, brushing away a few stray hairs from my face.

I'm not buying it.

"Tell me," I command, pulling my hand away from his.

"Just rest, Severus. You're still very weak. I'll go get you some…"

"TELL ME, POTTER! NOW! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, I AM NOT A CHILD!"

Potter's body stiffens in shock. For a moment I think he's going to shout back at me, but his shoulders droop and he looks to the floor instead, refusing to meet my eyes.

"I was going to tell you once you were feeling a little better. But well... you see, the thing is… After we brought you here and Madam Pomfrey assured me you would be fine, I just… I just sort of had this feeling. So I went into your office… And well… umm…"

"And what, Potter?" I ask, what little colour on my face quickly dissipating.

"It's Fawkes, Severus. He's gone."


	18. A Way, Away

**Author's Note:** As promised, here's the first update for the weekend! Rather short chapter, next one should be much longer, and will be coming in by the end of this week. Thanks for all your support btw! (P.S. If you hate cliffhangers, better not read this one until I post the next chapter. Just sayin'.) (;

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 18<strong>

_**A Way, Away**_

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><p>I do not rise from my bed for the remainder of the night.<p>

There are some nights when the anger inside me fuels my courage and drives me to do things I never would have thought possible. Then, there are other nights when my anger numbs me so much it drains me of all my strength, and all I feel like doing is lying in bed.

This is one of those nights.

Fawkes is gone and I am as good as dead.

After Potter informed me of Fawkes' disappearance, I rushed back to my office, only to find my wards down and my office in complete disarray. All that remained of my desk were tiny pieces of wood littered across the carpet. Scorch marks all round. Traces of fiend fire. Whoever stole Fawkes and Dumbledore's cage must have ripped off part of my desk with it. The pure ridiculousness of the situation astounds me.

Still, it is likely the intruder has yet to penetrate the cage. After all, I am still alive.

But how did said intruder get past my wards? And what caused the intense pain I experienced earlier at the Pitch? And where the hell is Fawkes?

Most importantly, why?

I toss and turn in bed, questions haunting me at every corner. Next to me, Potter slouches on a chair, snoring softly. Despite my protestations, he refused to leave me be. I had to pretend to fall asleep before he finally decided to close his eyes too.

I sigh. It is merely a matter of time now before Fawkes is harmed, and I, dead. I've always expected death.

Just not like this.

Not now.

Potter's lips hang open slightly while the wind blows strands of his hair across his forehead.

Not now.

I have become accustomed of being robbed of all life's pleasures. But Potter is one thing I cannot, absolutely will not be denied. I watch him for several moments and a strange ache forms in my chest. If anything should happen to him, because of me… I don't know how I'd live with myself.

I must get to the bottom of this, no matter what it takes. And Potter must not know what I discover. He's too involved in this mess already. It's the only way I can keep him protected.

I climb out of the bed slowly, clutching at my sides. My body is still sore from the pain, but the anger throbbing inside me pushes me further. Before leaving the hospital wing, I place a soft kiss upon Potter's forehead. My lips are hesitant to leave his skin, but I pull away anyway.

The brat is bound to pull a fuss if he realises I'm out of bed, so I make haste out of the musky hospital wing, resolving to get back before he awakes.

* * *

><p>The sky is clear tonight, but the wind is ice cold as it hits my face. The guests have all cleared out of the school compounds, along with the Ministry officials. Potter is insistent that Rowan never left the Hall the entire time, and yet every bone in my aching body is telling me he has everything to do with this.<p>

Whatever "this" is.

I reach the Quidditch Pitch in record time. No one is around. I am suddenly reminded of Lily. I do hope the child isn't too shaken up. But she is brave, that little one. If she hadn't reached Potter in time, who knows what might have happened. I remind myself that a treat at Madam Puddifoot's is in order once everything clears up.

I am not too sure where to start, but the only tangible clue I have to determining Fawkes' whereabouts is a certain photograph from many years ago. If someone put it up there, there has to be at least a faint trace of magical signature left behind on it. Or perhaps there's some sort of clue on the photograph itself?

The pictures in the frames dangling above me are illuminated slightly by what little light remains from the candles below. I wave my wand at the frames, combing through, searching. My eyes begin to hurt a little, but then I find it. The foolish boy, wearing his shame on his arm for all to see.

_We all make mistakes, Severus._

Potter's words echo in my mind, but they fail to make me feel any better.

I sigh.

"_Accio_," I whisper, pointing my wand directly at it. The old photograph flies towards me, its corners flapping violently against the wind.

Just as my fingers begin to close around its glossy surface, I feel a sharp tug at my navel. My eyes widen in shock and I struggle to let go of the photograph but I know my efforts are futile. I am sent hurtling into the distance, the photograph still stuck to my fingers. My mouth gapes wide, my breath is caught in my throat.

A bloody portkey.

Foolish, naïve, stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Severus.

All I can do is tighten my grip around my wand and brace myself.

The bile threatens to rise from my stomach, but just before I think I can no longer hold it in, I land flat upon wooden planks with a heavy thud. I sit up slowly as my eyes struggle to focus, attempting to make sense of my surroundings. The photograph slides out of my left hand, while I grip my wand tightly with my right.

This room… so familiar…

Wallpaper clawed from the walls. A cracked lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. The smell of rotting wood and… stale blood?

The Shrieking Shack?

Suddenly, a soft crack to my left startles me. Someone has just apparated into the room. I point my wand immediately at the intruder who emerges slowly from behind a pillar.

"No…" I struggle to say. "No… It can't be…"

Please…

My heart beats violently against my chest and I shuffle backwards, dragging my fingers against the chipped planks below me.

Get away, I have to get away.

"You're dead…" I mumble.

"Now, now, Severus. That's not a nice thing to say to your master," Lord Voldemort says, staring down at me. The slit he has for a mouth tightens into a thin smile.


	19. Resurfacing: Part 1

**Author's Note: **Hello lovelies! Here are my final 2 chapters for this week. Will try to update this more next weekend. Initially, I'd combined both chapters into 1 single chapter, but I felt a need to break it up into two. So enjoy! And thanks for your comments, will get down to replying them all once I'm done with this story. (: We're approaching the close!

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 19<strong>

_**Resurfacing: Part 1**_

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><p>"This… cannot be. <em>In… Incarcerous<em>!" I cry, but nothing happens. My wand fails me.

"You would have me tied up like an animal, Severus?" Lord Voldemort says as he glides across the floor towards me. "After everything I've done for you?"

"_Avada kedavra!_" I shout, ignoring him while waving my wand frantically.

Nothing.

Voldermort lets out a cruel laugh, his red eyes staring straight into mine. "Pathetic," he says. "Silly Severus, why, you're a Squib. How do you expect to do magic when you're a mere Squib?"

Why is my wand failing me? What's going on?

"Come, enough of this ridiculous game," Voldemort says and waves his wand in my direction.

Before I can even catch my breath, I am flung against a wall, spread-eagled. Steel manacles secure my wrists and ankles to the wall. My wand falls helplessly to the floor.

"There, that's better. A fitting welcome for my most faithful servant," he spits.

I struggle, attempting to free myself but I am unable to.

"What do you want?" I snarl, fighting to gather what remaining courage I have left.

"Nothing, Severus. I merely hope you enjoy the show," Voldemort says slowly walking towards me. He extends a thin, cold, bony finger and runs it across my cheek. I flinch.

"I do not wish to harm you. You see… you were always my favourite. As such, I've prepared a little show for you. I do hope you'll find this… pleasurable," he says. "Observe."

Voldemort waves an arm lazily and a wooden door appears in the wall in front of me. "Come!" he calls out.

A feeling of utmost dread washes over me as the door creaks open and a figure enters the room. Her face is a pale white, her eyes bloodshot. Her skin clings to her bones and what little flesh remains on her body. She looks like she hasn't eaten in years.

"Lily?" I gasp. "You're… dead."

Lily Evans says nothing. She stares at me, almost accusingly. This isn't real.

It can't be real…

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort shouts, pointing his wand at Lily.

"NO!" I cry, tugging hard at the manacles. But it is too late. Lily is on the floor, her face twisted in pain, her body twitching convulsively. "Stop! Please!"

This is not real… I know it's not real…

"…Sev! Help me!" Lily shrieks on the floor.

"_Avada_…" Voldemort begins to say.

"Please! Stop! I'll do anything!" I shout, pleading.

Voldemort turns towards me, his head inclined, as if assessing me. He lowers his wand. Lily's body lays motionless on the floor.

"Lily?" I call out to her, leaning forward. But there's no response. I squint, trying to watch her body for some sign of breathing. Some sign to show she's still alive.

"Ah, young love. How touching," Voldemort drawls. "But you've found a new love haven't you, Severus?"

For a brief moment, a look of pure panic crosses my face but I struggle to hide it. He can't possibly…

"Come, Potter!" Voldemort laughs and the door swings open once more.

"No…" I mumble.

Potter emerges from the door. But it isn't Potter.

He looks exactly as he did on the night of the Battle of Hogwarts. His clothes are soiled and torn, his hair in a mess. He walks towards me, his wand pointing straight at me.

"Murderer!" he shouts.

It's not Harry… Not my Harry...

"You're filth!" he spits. "You deserve to die!"

"Harry…" I say. "Get out! The Dark Lord will kill you!"

"I'd rather die than live another day with you still alive," he says, shoving the tip of his wand against my chest.

No. Don't say that. Please…

I feel all strength leave me. My hands are cold and clammy, and my head feels like it's about to explode.

"I love you," I say, almost pleadingly.

Potter laughs. "You're pathetic."

I am.

"Did you actually think I would fall for a pathetic old fool like you?"

No. I've always known you'd never love me. Why would you?

"Disgusting. How could anyone love you? Everyone uses you all the time, and you accept it. You're a coward."

Yes. Everyone uses me. I am a coward.

My head hangs low in shame. I feel the tears begin to form in my eyes.

"Aww, Severus, are you about to cry?" Potter laughs, tilting my head upwards with his wand.

I can't stop myself, a lone tear falls to the floor, crashing against the wooden planks.

"Child," Voldemort spits from behind Potter. "Simply a pathetic child who no one loves."

"You deserve to die," Potter says, his mouth pulled into a tight line.

Yes. I deserve it. I deserve to die.

"Kill me," I plead, my lips trembling, the tears falling freely from my face. "Kill Fawkes, kill me."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll destroy your pathetic Horcrux, and then destroy you," Potter says.

"Yes…" I say. I close my eyes, and wait. Waiting for death to finally claim me. I deserve to die. I am pathetic. I wait for those two words to be uttered. I wait…

Applause.

What?

I open my eyes.

Lord Voldemort, Potter and Lily are gone. I am no longer in the Shrieking Shack but I am still chained to the wall. Only, the walls aren't made of wood. They're made of stone. The room I am in is small, only slightly bigger than a cell at Azkaban. In front of me is a metal gate, and behind that gate, a short man with auburn hair smiles at me, clapping.

"Oh, very good, Severus. Very good indeed. Seems like the truth came out faster than I expected."

"Rowan?"

"Well, yes… and no," Rowan says slowly, gripping the bars in front of him with his hands.

My head is throbbing with pain. It feels as if someone has slammed it against a wall repeatedly.

"Well, I suppose proper greetings are finally in order," Rowan grins. "Good to see you again, Severus Snape. My name is Frank Hobbart and you murdered my family."


	20. Resurfacing: Part 2

**Author's Note: **Got you there, didn't I? (; Here's the second part!

P.S. There's a _Resurfacing: Part 1 _chapter (Chapter 19) right before this one. Some of you msg-ed saying you missed that one. Hope that helps.

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 20<strong>

_**Resurfacing: Part 2**_

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><p>Hobbart?<p>

I've heard that name before.

"You don't even remember do you?" Rowan, no, Frank Hobbart snarls from behind the gate.

I struggle to comb through my memories, despite the intense pain in my head. Hobbart, Hobbart…

_Within the first week of my stay, I received a note bearing a name - Toby Hobbart. _

Oh.

_I had no idea who this man was, so I assumed the guards must have gotten the letters mixed up..._

Lucius.

The last time I saw him, Lucius mentioned a Toby Hobbart. The first name scribbled on one of the many notes he had mysteriously received while serving his time at Azkaban.

"Toby Hobbart," I say out loud, slowly.

"Oh, so you do remember. Toby Hobbart was my father. Well, until you murdered him, that is," Hobbart tightens his grip on the bars between us.

I killed his father?

"You're mistaken," I say, leaning forward. My wrists scratch against the metal manacles which hold me upright.

"I AM NOT! You and your pathetic friends!" he spits. The expression of pure hatred on his face shocks me into silence. "Oh, you have no idea how long it's taken me to find you. I've spent my whole life devoted to you, Severus Snape."

"I… I never met your father," I say. This has to be some sort of cruel joke.

"LIAR!" he shouts and throws something at me which hits me square in the face. It falls to the floor below me and I lower my head slightly, trying to get a look at it.

When I see it, my mouth hangs open in shock.

The blasted photograph.

Oh.

But that family… they're all supposed to be dead. Dolohov said he took care of the wife and son. And Lucius murdered the man…

"You died. All of you…" I say.

Hobbart lets out crazed laughter. His beady eyes squinting at me. "Or so you thought. Do you know how it feels, Severus, to wake up one morning to your mother's screams? To climb out of your bed in fear, only to find that your room is on fire? Everything, everyone… burning into dust?"

I watch him, my jaw clenched, unmoving.

"ANSWER ME!" he screams, slamming his hands against the gate.

"No," I say. "No, I don't know how that feels."

He grins. "Well, let me tell you then. It smells like hell. The smell of rotting flesh. The fumes suffocating you so much you can barely breathe."

"But you survived," I say.

"Yes, I did. You and your stupid Death Eater friends all assumed we were Muggles. My parents were. But I'm not. I didn't know it then… But there were so many instances I felt strange bursts of uncontrollable magic as a child. I could never explain it. And somehow, against all odds, I survived that day. I must have cast some sort of protective charm on myself unknowingly."

I shift uncomfortably.

"So yes, once everyone had left, I crawled out of my room, and all I found were my parents' bodies… and your photograph," he says, grimacing.

"I didn't kill your parents," I say.

"I DON'T CARE! You were there! You were all there! You're all responsible! And now all of you will pay!" he screams, breathing heavily.

"All of us?" I question.

"Yes, all of you! And your families. And everyone you care about." Hobbart grins. "It's a pity the Lestranges had to die before I had a chance to kill them myself. And Antonin Dolohov too. Yes, I know about all of you. Luckily for me, the Malfoy's are still alive. I do hope they're enjoying their stay here."

I suddenly feel as if I'm about to vomit.

"So you spend years trying to find us. And you bring us all the way here to kill us?" I question, trying desperately to bide my time. Perhaps if I can stall him a little longer, help might come.

"Oh no, you see, Severus, if I wanted to kill you all right away, I could have. But I want to watch you suffer first. It does bring me so much joy, you know." Hobbart smiles.

"So where are we exactly? If you don't mind me asking," I snarl.

"Oh, why, I'm delighted you've asked. We're at the Department of Mysteries. I've spent years creating this little chamber for all of you. Each little suite is specially designed. It allows everyone in it to experience their own… how shall I put it? Well… it allows everyone to experience their own personal hell. Every grain of fear, every ounce of guilt. You've had a taste of it already. It was so fun to watch you cry like a lovesick puppy," he laughs.

I bite my lips, trying my best to suppress the anger building up inside of me.

"I'm impressed," I say, calmly. "So you built this all by yourself? Right smack in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. Quite a feat to go unnoticed for so long."

Hobbart arches an eyebrow. "Now you're making me blush, Severus. Well, it wasn't easy you know. First, I had to make sure that no one knew who I was so I wouldn't draw suspicion to myself. I had to assume the identity of one Gregory Rowan, a farmer from a village near Hogsmeade. I met him at a pub one evening. The poor man as good as begged for death, pining about how his daughter had been killed by Death Eaters. How he wanted to just end his life. So I helped him do it. I am merciful, and people who beg for death, deserve it. My parents never begged for death, they appreciated life every day."

"So you assumed his identity and got into the Ministry. Fantastic," I drawl.

"You make it sound so easy, Severus. But it wasn't really. I had to work my way up, impress the Ministry bigwigs. Get into a position of power so I could make all your lives into a living hell. But the people at the Ministry were very impressed with my ward-breaking abilities. Did I mention I have a particular talent with wards?" Hobbart smiles.

Wards? So that must have been how…

"So it was you who broke into my office…"

Hobbart nods. "Yes, but of course I had some help. You see, in order to create this little chamber of mine, I was missing one crucial component for the final spell. A feather from a phoenix."

I clench my fists, watching him as he paces in front of the cell.

"And how convenient it was that _you_ have a phoenix, Severus. Dumbledore's own, even. A bird, owned by one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived. I figured the magical properties from that feather would be phenomenal," he stops briefly to give me a sickeningly sweet smile.

"So I pulled a little favour from a colleague of yours – Horace Slughorn. He owes me a great deal, I got him out of what would have been… a long stay at Azkaban."

My body stiffens. Horace? But why…

"Of course he didn't know why I needed said feather. I just told him to get it for me, and he did one day when the bird was returning from hunting. But you see Severus, the curious thing is, Horace made a rather astute observation."

"And what might that be?" I ask, my calm composure breaking slightly.

"He mentioned in passing that since his first encounter with the bird, you've kept it in a rather… impenetrable cage in your office. Or so he noticed when he came to see you one day. So I asked myself, why would you do that? What's so special about this bird of yours?"

My gaze remains fixed and strong upon him, but my body is trembling.

"Such a mystery. And I am truly a very curious person, Severus. So I asked Horace to get the bird for me, whichever way he could. He was reluctant to break into your office, at first. But a desperate man makes for a good servant. The fool couldn't make it past your wards, ended up covered in boils from head to toe. As such, I knew I had to do it myself. And of course, the Remembrance Ceremony was the perfect excuse to get into the school," Hobbart explains.

Of course… So stupid, so foolish. It was all a trap. And I'd seen Horace covered in those green boils myself. He said it was from a student's Swelling Solution gone awry. Why didn't I make the connection earlier?

"So anyway, before I arrived at the Great Hall, I set the portkey photograph in place at the Quidditch Pitch. I knew that once you saw it, you'd want to get rid of it instantly. Quite brilliant on my part, I must say. So after that, I cracked open the wards to your office then headed downstairs where I remained for the rest of the night, where everyone could see me. This left Slughorn free to go get that blasted bird of yours. I recommended he use fiend fire. It was very clumsily done, but still, I must applaud him for the effort."

"Genius," I mutter.

"Indeed. So now everything's all cleared up. Except for one last detail," Hobbart grins.

"And what's that?" I ask, my lips trembling.

"The phoenix, of course! I must truly congratulate you, Severus. Such an accomplished Occlumens. I knew the only way to get the truth about the bird out was if I brought you here to my little chamber. Where you let loose your innermost secrets, your deepest fears. And all I had to do was sit here and watch!" he laughs, jamming his face in between the metal bars.

"And you've so very well lived up to my expectations. A Horcrux! Why, I wouldn't have thought you capable of performing such advanced magic. I suppose I'll just have to kill it first before getting to you… So tell me, Severus, how does one get past the cage?" Hobbart asks.

I glare at him, saying nothing.

"Ah. I knew you'd be so wonderfully responsive. Looks like I'll just have to try again later. Do enjoy your stay!" Hobbart laughs, gives me a little wave and then walks off into the distance, his footsteps echoing through the corridors.

So stupid, so foolish.

I sigh.

It'll only be a matter of time before he manages to kill us all. My robes feel cemented to my skin as I slump back uncomfortably against the wall. It feels like just moments ago I was lying in bed with Potter watching over me. And my lips grazing his warm skin for the last time. Watching that peaceful look he wears when he sleeps.

Perhaps he will come?

Or perhaps not.

"Harry," I mumble softly before my mind imprisons me once more and I am thrown spread-eagled upon the wooden planks of the Shrieking Shack, the Dark Lord standing in wait above me.


	21. All Soldiers Fall

**Author's Note****: **Just a short chapter for this week. More updates coming out next weekend! Thanks for all the comments so far!

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 21<strong>

_**All Soldiers Fall**_

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><p>Tonight, I am 6 again.<p>

I am crouched in a corner of my bedroom. Staring at the words in my mother's old potions textbook, trying to drown out the screams from outside. Mother pleading with that monster.

_Stop, please, Tobias, listen to me. It won't happen again!_

I cover my ears and mumble out loud. "Add two rat tails and three…"

A loud smash. The vase on the mantle outside has fallen to the floor.

"… and three horned slugs. Dried Billywig Stings can help…"

Mother is crying. Weeping.

The monster saw her using magic in the kitchen earlier. Magic is forbidden at this house.

The sound of metal hitting wood. His belt buckle has just hit the wall. I cover my ears with my hands and stare hard at the book sprawled out in front of me.

"Billywig Stings can help… can help expedite…"

_No! Please… Tobias, please… NO!_

"…can help… expedite the…"

Screams. Screams escaping through the gaps of my fingers. Slipping into my ears.

"…expedite the process…" I mumble, tears streaming down my cheeks.

It's taking every ounce of strength I have left in my body to stop myself from running out and killing that monster. But every time the monster comes home smelling of alcohol, Mother makes me promise to never come out of the room. To stay locked in, pretend I'm asleep. But how can anyone sleep at a time like this?

I shove the textbook away and wrap my arms tightly around my knees.

Stop, stop, make it stop. Let him die. Please let him die.

I hear him shouting. I hear her choking. She shouts my name. She's shouting my name repeatedly. Her voice grows soft.

It's quiet.

She's alive, I tell myself. She's not dead, Severus. Don't worry.

The sound of the doorknob turning. I've forgotten to lock the door tonight.

I rush to bed, but it's too late. The monster is here, he's stumbling towards me. His belt buckle glistening in the light. I bite my lips, trembling, but I remain silent.

He strikes the floor once with the leather belt he holds in his hands. His eyes unfocused.

"Your turn," he says.

* * *

><p>My eyes finally open on their own accord.<p>

I've lost track of day and time. It's morning whenever I awake, and night when sleep claims me. The barriers of my mind are slowly breaking down. Years of practising Occlumency gone down the drain. After every few "events" I experience in this bloody place, Hobbart saunters by and pries open my mind a little further with Legilimency. Searching for information on Fawkes.

When he isn't doing that, he's content with simply watching me suffer. The "events" are a combination of real memories of the most painful situations I've ever been in, and imaginary ones. It's getting harder and harder to differentiate the two.

My body is more or less in a constant state of numbness, and my robes reek of my own sweat and sick. I've had no food for what seems like days. But Hobbart comes by every day and shoots water at me from his wand, laughing each time. The first few times he did this, I just stared at him, unflinching. But my body grows weak, and in order to keep myself alive, and my sanity intact, hydration is necessary. So, I caved. I allow my mouth to hang open like a dog, drinking every little drop of water possible. Hobbart calls me words which I know are accurate assessments of myself at this point of time.

_Disgraceful. Disgusting. Filth._

There was a time I would rather die than be subjected to such humiliation. But I cannot die. Not now. Harry will come. He will come, you just see.

He will come.

* * *

><p>Today, I spent the afternoon (or what felt like it should be an afternoon), enduring a vigorous Crucio session from the Dark Lord. The pain was not real, but it certainly felt like it was.<p>

When it was over, Hobbart entered my cell and stuffed a piece of meat into my mouth, as "a reward" for humouring him. I was not certain what sort of meat it was, but I ate it nonetheless.

* * *

><p>I've killed Mother several times since I've been here.<p>

I deserve this. This torture is much deserved.

* * *

><p>Potter and the Weasley girl copulate in front of me this evening.<p>

* * *

><p>Young Lily Potter and I are at the Shrieking Shack. But Lupin is here, he's transformed. He tears Lily apart and I do nothing but watch. Pieces of her flesh hit me across the face.<p>

When I awake this time, I spit out the pieces of meat which Hobbart shoves into my mouth.

* * *

><p>I actually look forward to Hobbart's visits. Everytime he stops by, he spends minutes insulting me, mocking me, laughing at me.<p>

I welcome this.

Not because I'm a sadistic bastard, but because every minute he spends talking to me means one minute away from being thrown back into the torture that is my own mind.

I have come to accept the fact that I will probably die here. Potter has not come. He has failed me. I've deluded myself into thinking the boy cares for me. Everything he's ever said has been a lie.

It was all just a trick. Revenge for the way I'd treated him when he was younger. He and Horace have been in on this together all along. They betray me. I am foolish to have trusted anyone. Complacency has made me weak.

The Malfoy's are probably dead. The Ministry, as usual, has done nothing. Why waste precious time searching for servants of the Dark Lord?

* * *

><p>Some days I can barely remember my own name.<p>

* * *

><p>Black and Potter have me suspended in mid-air, completely naked. The whole school watches and laughs. They point at my scars and call me a murderer.<p>

I am a murderer.

* * *

><p>It feels like I've been here for months.<p>

Hobbart hasn't managed to get to Fawkes yet. I'm still alive.

I wish I was dead.

* * *

><p>"I'm beginning to notice a pattern, Severus," Hobbart says.<p>

"And what would that be?" I mumble.

"Why is it that Potter is the only one who keeps threatening to kill that blasted bird of yours?" he questions.

"Because he wants me dead," I say.

"Well yes, obviously. Who wouldn't?" Hobbart laughs. "But why him of all people? What's his connection to Fawkes?"

I say nothing.

"You know Severus, I think Potter is the only one who can get to the phoenix."

No.

I flinch slightly then look up at him.

"Think what you will," I say.

"Oho! So is that a yes? Why, perhaps it's time I send Potter a little invitation to our party. I'm certain you miss him so," Hobbart smiles.

What little heat that's left in my body rushes to my face for some reason.

"Potter may be daft but he's not foolish enough to fall for your trap, Hobbart," I say.

No. No, Potter cannot come. Hobbart would torture him.

"Oh, really now? If the two of you are as… well-acquainted as it seems… oh, I think he will most definitely come," Hobbart's smile grows wider.

I glare at him.

"Hold on to your knickers, Severus. No need to get all excited!" he laughs as he walks away from the gate in front of me.

Potter cannot come. He must not.

The anger I feel towards Hobbart is overwhelming. And the fear… for Potter.

But suddenly I begin to feel something I haven't felt in what seems like months.

That traitorous, foolish feeling -

Hope.


	22. The Coming

**Author's Note: **Hello! Just one chapter for this weekend, have been crazy busy. ): Will try to update more again next week! Thanks again for all your lovely messages/reviews! (:

* * *

><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 22<strong>

_**The Coming**_

* * *

><p>"Top of the mornin'!" Hobbart grins, leaning against his wooden cane.<p>

I force my eyes open. It feels as if every part of my body has stopped functioning. The only thing that reminds me that I am alive is the slow, ragged breathing falling from my lips. I look up at Hobbart.

Satisfied, he continues. "Guess who's visiting today?"

No. Please.

"I couldn't possibly," I drawl.

"Oh, why, only the love of your life!"

What little heat that's left in my body rushes to my face. I stare at him, refusing to speak.

"Now Severus, please try to contain your excitement!" Hobbart smiles, tapping his cane against the stone floor below us.

"Mr. Potter will be joining us today, whether he likes it or not. He just doesn't know it yet."

What?

I fight the look of surprise that's threatening to show on my face. Doesn't know it yet? How is he planning to trick Potter into coming?

Hobbart assesses me coolly from behind the bars. "You know, you're really something, Severus. I thought you'd break much faster than this. But not to worry, once I'm done with your beloved Mr. Potter, you'll be begging. Begging me for death," he laughs.

"Come closer, I dare you," I snarl.

"Merlin forbid, no! You reek, Severus! I have a sensitive nose. Wouldn't want to get your filth all over my robes either."

Hobbart pauses and then retrieves what looks like a gold pocket watch from his robes. "Ah, any minute now! Come Severus!"

He gives his wand a lazy wave and the gate to my cell slides open. Another wave of his wand releases my manacles and sends me falling to the floor. Before I can even move, ropes bind me like and animal and I struggle to gain my balance.

"Get up!" he commands.

I glare at him, my eyes shielded behind the hair that clings to my face.

Hobbart feigns exasperation and says, "Oh, for Merlin's sake. _IMPERIO_!"

My body jerks ramrod straight and I am forced upright.

"Walk," Hobbart says, and I do. The mere act of walking feels strange, foreign. But my legs now have a mind of their own.

As I emerge from the cell, I see a long corridor ahead of me. Hobbart behind me, forcing me forward with his spell. There are cells on either side of the corridor, similar to the one I was in.

I shift a nervous glance to a cell on my right. My eyes widen in shock. A man I've never seen before is getting forcibly torn to pieces by what appears to be a massive Hungarian Horntail.

"Ah, that's good old Mr. Devlan. He was one of those on the Board who was against my decision of getting you sacked as Headmaster. Exceptionally frightened of dragons. But I'm sure you know by now how much I hate Death Eater supporters," Hobbart drawls and forces me along.

On and on we walk, and I see people I've never seen before. Each drowning in their own nightmares. Sobbing over unknown corpses, getting attacked by Dementors, the list goes on. After a while, I can't bear to watch anymore so I simply look ahead.

As we begin reaching the end of the long corridor, I hear someone call my name.

"Sev…erus?"

I look to my left and my breath hitches in my throat.

"Kingsley?"

Shacklebolt is chained to the wall, his face bloodied, his eyes swollen as if he's been hit repeatedly.

"He's… got you…," Shacklebolt mumbles, his head tilted to one side.

"Of course I have!" Hobbart laughs from behind me.

"Leave… him be…Rowan," Shacklebolt mutters.

Before I can reply, the manacles which hold Shacklebolt up disappear and his body is thrown against the wall. A young girl materialises in front of him. His sister perhaps?

"No…," he says, completely ignoring the fact that Hobbart and I are right outside his cell. Next to the young girl, several Death Eaters in masks materialise. One has his wand pointed to the girl's neck.

"Crucio!" he snarls. The girl screams.

"No, no, no!" Shacklebolt is squirming on the floor. The Minister of Magic curled up tightly into a ball, hugging his knees. I feel the bile rushing to my throat.

Hobbart laughs from behind me. "Pathetic. How anyone could stand to follow him is beyond me. Move!" he commands.

We make a right at the corridor and he unlocks a large metal door in front of us. He forces me into what seems like a large, empty room. At the corner of the room, stands a wooden table. And on that table,

"Fawkes," I mumble.

I move towards him but Hobbart stops me, slamming me against the wall. Once again, manacles tighten around my wrists and ankles. I struggle but it's no use. Fawkes is in Dumbledore's cage, but his feathers are ruffled, looking slightly worse for wear. He shrieks loudly when he notices me, hopping excitedly.

"Quieten down, stupid bird," Hobbart says, shooting sparks aimlessly towards Fawkes.

Hobbart pauses in front of me and checks his pocket watch again. He smiles.

"Any minute now," he says.

My heart seems to be beating faster than it should. It seems likely that Potter may be arriving by portkey, considering the fact that Hobbart keeps checking his watch. I have to think of a way to get Potter out as soon as possible. There must be a way.

Think, Severus, think.

"Three, two… ONE!" Hobbart grins and stares at the empty space in front of him.

Nothing.

Nothing happens.

Potter isn't here.

I am just about to let loose the breath of air I've been holding in, when a loud crash fills the room. From the corner, Fawkes squeaks in surprise. Hobbart is clapping in delight.

The familiar mop of black hair is the first thing I notice. Potter rises from the ground. "What…" he mumbles.

His right hand clings to what looks like his Firebolt. A portkey, obviously. But then I notice someone else, hiding behind Potter's legs, clinging to his left hand. Her face pale, her tiny body shaking with fear.

Lily Potter.

"No! Don't let go of the broom!" I shout. But it's too late. Hobbart flicks the Firebolt out of sight.

"Severus!" Potter exclaims when he notices me.

"Wand out!" I cry.

But Hobbart is fast, too fast. In one move, Hobbart sends Potter and Lily smashing against the wall opposite me. Manacles securing them into place. Potter's wand flies freely towards Hobbart who pockets it.

Lily screams.

"No! Lily!" I shout, pushing myself forward.

"And hello to you too!" Hobbart grins.

Potter struggles to free himself, trying to calm Lily down beside him.

Lily sobs.

"Why, a surprise guest even! And who might you be, little one?" Hobbart grins, moving towards Potter and Lily.

"Leave her alone!" Potter shouts, still struggling.

"What is your name?" he continues, dragging his wand lightly across Lily's cheek.

"Li…ly…," she mumbles, squirming against the wall.

"If you lay one finger on her, Rowan… I swear I'll…" Potter glares at him.

"Oh, I don't want to hurt her, Harry. But if you don't do as I say, I'm afraid there's not much I can do," Hobbart laughs. "And the name is Frank Hobbart."

"I'll do what you say, leave them alone!" Potter says angrily.

"So obliging! I like that about you, Harry. Saviour of the wizarding world, at my beck and call. I must consider myself… flattered, to say the least," Hobbart smiles.

"What do you want?" Potter asks, his glasses askew on his face. He looks thin and slightly haggard… different.

"Ah, I was just wondering… you see, my friend Severus here truly misses this little pet of his. And for some reason, I can't seem to get it out of its little cage," Hobbart pauses, assessing Potter's reaction. But the only thing apparent on his face is anger.

"As such, I was hoping you could help me… retrieve it," Hobbart grins.

"What makes you think I can do that?" Potter asks.

"Because Severus as good as told me you could," Hobbart drawls.

For a brief moment, Potter catches my eye, a look of surprise crossing his face.

"Well, okay, not exactly, but I've seen it in his dreams. His nightmares. I've seen every part of him, Harry. Over these past few months, we've become much more… acquainted," he grins.

"Liar!" Potter cries. Next to him, Lily sobs softly.

"I don't lie, Potter. Well… not about this at least. It's simple really, open the cage, or I will kill them both right now," he says, waving his wand lazily at nothing at all.

"Let them go. They have nothing to do with this," I say.

"I know, such a pity," Hobbart says, a look of mock concern on his face. "But I want to kill you slow and steady, Severus. And I need get rid of that stupid bird first don't I?"

I grit my teeth in anger.

"I want you reassurance first," Potter says, suddenly.

Hobbart spins around towards him fast, ignoring me.

"Set them both free first, and I'll get Fawkes for you," he says.

"I'm not a fool, Mr. Potter. Regardless of what you may think of me," Hobbart snarls.

"Just Lily then," I say. "Set her free. She's just a child."

"I WAS A CHILD TOO, SEVERUS! DID YOU FORGET THAT WHEN YOU MURDERED MY FAMILY?" Hobbart exclaims, a crazed look caked upon his face. He presses hard against my cheek with his wand.

Lily's sobs grow increasingly louder.

"She's unarmed. Reassurance, as Potter says," I snarl back at him. "Then you can kill me, and that's what you want isn't it?"

Hobbart eyes me warily and lowers his wand slowly. "Yes, yes, that is exactly what I want."

Potter looks at me questioningly from across the room. He's probably wondering if I have a plan.

I have none.

The only thing on my mind is to get Lily out of here. Get them both out of here. Away from Hobbart.

Away.

"Fine. But you know Potter, I could simply just force you to get the bird out of that stupid cage. All it takes is one simple spell… But because I am a man of justice, and I don't believe in torturing the innocent, I'll grant you this one wish. But if you try anything, little one, I will kill you," Hobbart says, staring straight at Lily. "You don't want to die, do you, Lily?"

Lily bites her lips to stop herself from crying. She shakes her head slowly.

"Good girl," he says. He pauses for a moment, considering his decision. Then he waves his wand quickly and Lily falls to the floor, the manacles fading into the wall behind her. Hobbart keeps his wand pointed at Lily.

"One move, and you die. Do you understand that?" he snarls. Lily nods, pushing herself against the wall.

"Courage, Ms. Potter," I say, forcing a small smile. She looks up at me and nods slowly.

"Touching, Severus. But we have business to attend to. Get me Fawkes, Potter," Hobbart says.

Potter looks at me, confused, afraid, angry.

"Just do it," I tell him.

I will die, but at least, perhaps, Potter and Lily can go free. It's unlikely that Hobbart will keep his end of the bargain. But when he's busy killing me, Potter may be able to work out an escape plan.

Perhaps.

Hobbart frees Potter and he collapses onto the floor, attempting to regain his balance with his hands.

"Do it," Hobbart says. Potter hesitates.

"Let me make this clearer for you, Potter," Hobbart mumbles angrily. He points his wand towards Lily who inches back slightly.

"No!" Potter shouts.

"Then do it," Hobbart snarls.

Potter looks towards me and I nod slowly.

"Oh for Merlin's bloody sake, _IMPERIO_!" Hobbart cries pointing his wand at Potter. Potter's back is bent, he's mumbling, _no, no, no_…

But against his will, he's inching closer and closer towards Fawkes' cage. His hand stretching slowly towards it.

"No, don't… make me!" Potter shouts, his body convulsing. Hobbart is laughing, clearly enjoying the scene before him.

"Yes!" Hobbart shouts, gleefully. "Get it, get it!"

Potter's hand is reaching into the cage, his body fighting to pull away from it. But failing.

He passes through the magical barrier, then through the metal. Fawkes inches back away from his hand, squeaking loudly. But Potter's hand is forced towards Fawkes, grabbing him by the neck. Fawkes struggles.

"Excellent! Now hold it out so I can kill the blasted thing!" Hobbart laughs. Potter is gritting his teeth, his arm extends, holding out a struggling Fawkes.

This is the end.

"Send my regards to your Death Eater friends, Severus. Death awaits!" Hobbart grins.

I refuse to close my eyes. I will look death in the eye.

I watch Potter struggling to regain control of his own body.

"Harry," I mumble, and for one brief moment he looks right at me.

My Harry.

"_Avada Keda_…" Hobbart shouts.

"No!" Lily shrieks loudly.

Suddenly, Hobbart is flying towards me, shouting. His skull crashes into mine and my head knocks straight into the wall behind me.

More shouts, screams.

My eyes close on their own accord.

And then all I see is darkness.


	23. Still

**Author's Note: **Hello! And finally, an update! Sorry it's taken me so long, have been a bit preoccupied with stuff. Will try to finish up the remaining chapters as soon as possible. More answers to those burning questions coming up in the following chapters. Just a short one for this week. (: As usual, mucho gracias for the reviews, PMs, etc. You guys are awesome. (: Enjoy!

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><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 23<strong>

_**Still**_

* * *

><p>"Get Madam Pomfrey! Hurry! Go!" he shouts.<p>

Frantic movement everywhere. Screams.

I can't open my eyes. I can't move. I'm being carried, levitated.

"Ginny, take Lily…"

Sobbing.

"Ssshhh, don't cry, Lily. You did good. You were amazing! Now go with Mum, come on…"

"I… hurt Sev…"

"No you didn't. You saved him, now come on, be a good girl, you'll get to see him later. Hurry…"

More frantic movements. Cotton, soft sheets below me.

"Sev? Can you hear me?"

Yes.

"Stay with me, Sev. Just hang on a little longer. Madam Pomfrey's on her way. Come on, come on…"

I'm here, I'm here.

"Harry! What's going…"

"Poppy, please! I'll explain later, please help him!"

"Help who… Oh Merlin! Severus! Essence of Dittany, quick Harry! On the shelf…"

My eyes refuse to open. I'm going, I know it.

I feel a tingle of magic on my skin. Poppy's assessing me.

Suddenly, her warm hand lightly grasps my arm and I scream. I scream so much I cannot stop. My body convulses.

"What did you do? Severus!"

"Nothing! I just touched his arm!"

"Do something! Oh god… Severus… please… what's wrong…"

My lips are pulled open forcefully and a cold liquid is shoved down my throat.

My body stops shaking, and I drift further and further into the darkness once more.

* * *

><p>I do not have sufficient strength to open my eyes. I lay awake sleeping.<p>

But I know when he's near. That familiar scent, musky and clean. His voice, his hands.

He never leaves my side. Sometimes he talks to me. Gently, slowly. Sometimes, he talks to others. Not so gently, not as slowly. All I hear is anger.

For days, no one could touch me but it never stopped him from trying. Stupid boy. Arrogant child.

My brat.

In the mornings his fingers run through my hair, slowly untangling the knots. Gently. He stops the moment I flinch.

He calls out to me softly. He says my name and I cannot let go. It pains me knowing I might remain like this forever. Blind, mute, crippled.

Afraid.

* * *

><p>He drags a damp sponge across my face. Each time a fingertip accidentally grazes my skin, I groan and he apologises.<p>

But he never tires of me.

"Sev, when are you going to wake up?"

* * *

><p>"Morning Sev! Brought you a present today," he says. I hear him dragging his usual chair closer to my bed.<p>

"It's a bottle of Ogden's Finest! Yeah, I know, you'd probably roll your eyes at me now if you could," he chuckles. I hear the clink of glass on wood.

"Yes, I know you can't drink it now. I'll just leave this here so we can have some once you're fine. I suppose the first thing you'll want to do is get some proper drink in your system."

Oh, he knows me well.

"Nothing much happening today. Lily might be coming around later. She's still pretty shaken up. But I'm sure once she sees that you're better, she'll be fine. She really was amazing. In case you're wondering… you probably are…" he pauses for a while, and I'm certain he's grinning.

"Well, it was a bit of uncontrollable magic on her part. Guess that sorta stuff does do some good, after all, eh? She's always accidentally setting things on fire at home and sending gnomes flying across the garden. She doesn't know how she managed it either honestly, but one moment I was holding Fawkes, Hobbart pointing his wand at me, and the next… well, Hobbart was sent crashing into a wall. Gave me enough time to tackle him down and get us back to Hogwarts. Don't want to bore you with all the other tiny details now."

Ah, my little Slytherin princess.

"Really miss you, Sev. Even your bloody sarcasm. I don't know if you can hear me. I suppose if you can, that's great… and if you can't… well… I suppose I could just repeat this later. Merlin, what is wrong with me!"

He's chuckling again. It's a sound I know I will never grow tired of.

"Kingsley's getting better too, by the way. He's awake, but still in need of a lot of rest. The Malfoy's are good too."

He pauses.

"Lucius as well," he mumbles quickly.

He drags his finger slowly across my knuckles, and my arm jerks away on its own accord. I hear him sigh.

"Guess the whole 'infringing on my modesty' thing will have to wait, huh? But don't worry, Sev. No rush. You'll be fine. You're getting better."

I hope so. I really do hope so.

* * *

><p>Tonight I feel warm lips touch my forehead. I fight the urge to flinch.<p>

I win.

* * *

><p>"Harry?"<p>

"Hmm?" the mop of thick hair resting against the side of my leg shifts away.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" he mumbles.

"Just checking… Umm, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Good, good… Erm, Hermione's really worried about you, you know… says you haven't been getting enough sleep…"

"I'm fine, Ron. I've been dozing off here when I need to. Any news on Hobbart's trial?"

"Yeah, scheduled for next week. Don't worry, mate. There's no way he's going free."

"Ah."

"Yeah… so… umm…"

He sighs. "What is it, Ron?"

"You can't just stay here all the time, you know. You look a right mess."

"I said, I'm fine, Ron," he says, more forcefully this time.

"I know, I know… I'm just worried, that's all. I'm off-duty tonight. I'll keep you company."

"It's alright, you can head back. The kids will want to see you."

"Nah… Mione's making meatloaf tonight. Don't tell her, but it's honestly worse than Aunt Fiona's. You know… the one with the ridiculously sweaty palms? I swear you could collect enough to fill up an entire river! It's no wonder everything she cooks is always so salty!"

"Urgh! Ron!"

"Sorry, mate but it's true. Anyway, here, I stole Hugo's pack of Exploding Snap. Fancy a go?"

"Yeah, go on." I can tell he's grinning again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm… You sure you don't want to head back to your room and get some sleep? Then come back here in the morning or something?"

He sighs.

"I do, Ron. I do want to. It's just that…"

"You can't?"

"Yeah."

"Ah. Guessed as much. Fairy-tale romance with the Potions Master and all that, eh?"

"Sod off!"

"Just kidding, mate. Come on, I'll deal the cards."

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"No worries, mate."

* * *

><p>Lily's here today.<p>

She slides her tiny hand into mine. I force my hand to stay in place. She needs to know I'm alright. She says nothing.

We stay like this for what feels like hours.

* * *

><p>Minerva and some of the staff come to visit.<p>

The old harpy delights in letting me know that Gryffindor thrashed Slytherin in the last Quidditch match. Before she leaves, she pats my head softly. It's a strangely uncharacteristic gesture. I hear Pomona and Rolanda nagging at Potter to get some proper sleep. The boy is as stubborn as a mule.

I wonder what has happened to Horace.

* * *

><p>"Why won't you wake up, Sev? Things are getting pretty dull around here. Fawkes misses you too. He's… well… he's okay, I guess. Not doing too good, but Hagrid's doing everything he can. He'll be okay."<p>

Hmm? My stomach clenches.

"I… I really wish you'd just wake up and say something, Sev…"

If I could, I would, foolish boy.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you. Umm, I've been… I don't know… Perhaps, it's not the right time," he sighs.

"Ah, sod it. I guess, I should just say it now. I hope you can hear me. Although, I suppose if you can't… then well… I'll just pretend this never happened… and well… you'll forget that I'm about to make a right arse of myself…" he chuckles.

What are you on about, Potter?

"So umm, when you left… I… I kinda got a little… carried away, I suppose. I did everything I could to find you. And I promised myself I wouldn't stop searching until I did. Spose' I did get everyone quite worried…"

I feel my whole body becoming number than it already is.

"But well… I couldn't help myself. I need you, Severus. I… I just don't… work… without you."

I think I may vomit. Although the growing warmth in my chest is saying something else.

"What I'm trying to say is… well…"

What?

"I…"

WHAT? WHAT THE BLOODY GOBLINS IN HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY, POTTER?

"I love you, Sev. I really bloody love you, you snarky git."

Oh.

"But ah, you probably won't remember this when you wake up. So umm, nevermind, let's pretend I didn't just say that," he chuckles and then gently places his hand in mine, as if waiting to see if I'll flinch.

The warmth in my chest seems to be making its way around the rest of my body. Before I can even comprehend what's happening, my fingertips shift slightly.

Potter's hand stills.

"Did you just…"

I squeeze his hand as hard as I can.

"Not the most romantic of confessions, Potter," I say, allowing my eyelids to open slowly.

"You bastard!" Potter exclaims as he practically pounces on me, grinning widely.


	24. Confessions

**Author's Note: **Hello lovelies! Numerous apologies for the long delay in updating. Rest assured, I've not forgotten about this fic. A very short chapter this week, but will promise to update more in the coming week. Stay tuned, and thanks for your patience and support! ((:

* * *

><p><strong>The Horcrux of Severus Snape – Chapter 24<strong>

_**Confessions**_

* * *

><p>"Do get off me, Potter. This bed is meant for patients only," I mumble, shrugging slightly. Slowly, but surely, the warmth from my hands spreads to the rest of my body. Potter removes himself from my person and helps me sit up.<p>

"Took you long enough," Potter replies, beaming at me. I allow my eyes to focus and involuntarily let out a quiet gasp. His face is shrunken, and the circles around his eyes are a lot darker than the last time I saw him.

Potter notices my reaction. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

"Yes. You," I reply, frowning. "You've not been resting. And by the looks of it, you've not been eating either."

He ruffles his hair, smiling sheepishly. "Umm, well, yeah. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Fool. I was completely concussed, Potter. There's not much you could have done unless you've suddenly become a renowned Healer sometime in the past few months," I drawl, feigning annoyance.

Potter has the audacity to laugh. "Git. Missed you though. It was… pretty rough without you," he mumbles.

He reaches for my hand and grasps it lightly. I tighten my fingers around his. For a moment I forget that we're in the Hospital Wing and that there actually might be people watching. Fortunately for us, there's no one in sight.

We say nothing for a while. I watch Potter as his gaze drifts across my face, he doesn't stop smiling. I can't remember feeling this content in a long time.

"So," I begin, smirking slightly. "You love me."

Potter's face begins to redden slightly. Ah, that familiar look. He shifts uncomfortably and stares aimlessly at the wall behind me.

I'm finding it hard to suppress my laughter.

"Well… yeah, that's what I said…" Potter says slowly.

"Ah. And when may I ask did you come upon this realisation?" I ask, biting my bottom lip in attempt to stop a smile from forming.

"Umm, well… I guess I've always known it. Just… these past few months when you were gone… and I… Merlin, Sev, why do you have to be so difficult!" Potter grumbles.

"No need to get all flustered, Potter," I say, arching an eyebrow.

"So umm… do you…," Potter prods my side with a finger.

"Do I what?"

"Do you… you know?"

"No, Potter, I do not know what you're talking about."

"Bloody goblins, Sev! Do you love me?" Potter shouts exasperatedly.

"Oh. Well, this is awkward," Ronald Weasley mumbles from the doorway.

Bloody Merlin. Where's that bottle of Ogden's Potter brought in?

"Ron! What… What're you doing here?" Potter mumbles. That familiar red shade takes its place on Potter's face again.

"Err… I just came to ask if you wanted to join us for lunch…" Weasley mumbles. Suddenly his face lights up in realisation as he notices me sitting up. "Snape! Umm, I mean… Headmaster! You're awake!"

"Apparently," I mutter. Dull as ever. Nothing has changed, it seems.

"Well err… congratulations on your recovery! And umm, I'll just… wait outside then… Or, err… not. I'll be at the Great Hall," Weasley says. "Well… bye then!" he mumbles quickly, raises a hand in greeting, and then as good as runs out into the hallway.

"Shit," Potter says finally, after a minute of silence.

"Indeed," I reply, and he breaks into a fit of laughter. I smirk, shaking my head in disbelief.

"So… up for lunch at the Great Hall?" Potter asks.

I nod. After spending what felt like an eternity in isolation, seeing familiar faces actually feels like a good idea. Very uncharacteristic. Suddenly, I realise I've forgotten to ask Potter the most important question.

"Potter, where's Hobbart?"

He stills for a moment, and the smile on his face disappears momentarily. "He's being held at Azkaban. Awaiting trial," Potter explains.

"Ah," I say. I'm not sure how to react to this news.

"Don't worry, Sev. The bastard won't see the light of day ever again. I'll make sure of it," Potter says determinedly, his mouth tightening into straight line.

I nod. But strangely enough, despite the anger I feel in my chest, a stronger emotion triumphs.

Shame.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Potter smiles.

I shake my head. "Nothing. Lunch, now. You need to eat."

"You need to eat," Potter arches an eyebrow at me.

I sigh.

"Fine. I'll see you at the Great Hall. I need to see Fawkes. He's at my office, I presume?"

Potter nods. "I'll come with," he says, helping me up from the bed. His steady hands grip my arm tightly.

"No, I'll be fine. Mr. Weasley's eagerly awaiting your presence as we speak," I smirk.

"Prat. Okay, you sure you can manage?"

"Yes, Mother. Now, go," I mutter, attempting to get my balance. Potter laughs, walking me to the doorway. He lets go of my arm hesitantly.

"Alright, so, see you in a bit then…" he mumbles.

"I'm going to my office, Potter. Not leaving the country," I groan.

"I know… just... don't ever leave again," he says. It's a command, not a request.

"I don't intend to," I say, watching him intently.

He nods, smiling slightly. He turns and begins to walk away towards the Great Hall.

"Oh, and Potter," I call out.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For everything," I say.

He grins, shrugging. "No worries."

"And… I… love you..." I mumble. "Too," I add on stupidly.

Potter's mouth falls open slightly, flabbergasted. Before he has time to say anything else, I stalk away quickly in the other direction, mentally slapping myself for sounding like a lovestruck teenager.

What has become of you, Severus Snape?


End file.
